Snapped
by Vera Roberts
Summary: She killed her manipulative husband. Or did she? Starring: OC, Batista, Randy, Trish, Vince, JBL, other WWE stars.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: For those of you following The Bachelor, I promise you that I'm still working on the story. The latest chapter is taking me a lot longer than I had expected but I hope to post it this week._

_Here is a new idea that I'm playing with. I hope you all enjoy. _

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The gallery was crowded with spectators, eager to see the latest fashion the defendant was wearing. Reporters from all over the world flew in for the biggest news event of the year. The prosecution had their case laid out; with several eyewitnesses and direct evidence against the defendant. The defense was equally prepared with psychologists, waiting to testify on the defendant's mental well-being.

Surprisingly cool about the proceedings, Lisa Hernadez walked through the corridor of the courthouse, alongside her attorney, David Batista. She was stunning in her light green Prada business suit. She knew that when she put the suit on that morning, it was going to draw more attention to her than the case itself. And that was fine by her. She spent quite a bit of money for the suit and she was going to wear it.

That wasn't the only thing that was gathering attention. Lisa was downright beautiful, striking, even. She was getting love letters and flowers delivered to her home from admirers—both male and female. Most of the spectators were men trying to get a glimpse of how nice her ass looked in those tight skirts she wore.

She resembled Jessica Alba so much that Hollywood producers already cast her in a made-for-TV movie about the trial. Lisa privately complained that she wanted Eva Longoria to play her. But she was glad that Jennifer Lopez wasn't playing her. Lisa couldn't stand her.

But that was the last thing she wanted or cared about. The trial just started and she was already getting bored with the proceedings. Every day, she had to listen to more testimony regarding her mental state and police evidence, which quite frankly, she didn't give a damn about. She was doodling before but Dave quickly put a stop to it.

She tried to look as interested as possible but she often distracted herself by writing poems on her notepad. If there was one thing Lisa was good at besides schooling both men and women in the bedroom, it was writing. She was already a published author and had another one in the works. Her last published effort was going un-noticed but once the trial started, it immediately flew off the shelves. Lisa felt she was being exploited by the public and wanted to complain--that is, however, she started to receive royalty checks.

As much as she couldn't stand the trial and everything that went with it, Lisa needed to prove that what she did was right. It wasn't a case of her being accused of wrongdoing; she knew what she did was wrong but she didn't have a choice in the matter. She needed to protect herself and her children. She needed to stop the pain, the abuse, the suffering. She needed to prove that her husband wasn't the shining star that appeared in public but Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde behind close doors.

She needed to kill her husband, Randy Orton. And he deserved all 56 stab wounds.


	2. How It All Began

"ALL RISE!" The bailiff announced to the full courtroom.

Lisa stood up along with Dave and waited for the judge to enter the courtroom. Lisa smiled as she saw Judge Lilian Garcia take her place at the bench. Lilian was known to be a strict judge and very short with lawyers and clients who wasted her time. She was a petite woman but her demeanor expected nothing but respect. Lisa had to admit that she was attracted by the power and beauty that Lilian had. Plus, the fact that she was a blonde Latina made Lisa feel all sorts of tingly.

"You may be seated." Lilian announced to the courtroom.

Lisa prepared herself with more hours of tedious and mundane testimony. Today she felt "lucky" that the prosecution called their own mental psychologists to testify on her mental state. _Because they know me so well, right? _

As Lisa began to write again some more on her notebook, she reminisced to a time where things weren't that bad—when she never thought about being on trial for her husband's murder. It was the first time that her and Randy caught each other's eye.

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It was a Tuesday evening and Randy just got off from work. His first day that the law office was a strenuous one—new clients, old cases and much unnecessary bullshit that plagued his day. But all of that was expected for a new and upcoming young lawyer, fresh out of law school. The new lawyers always received the brunt of the workload, working ridiculous hours and being the whipping boys of the firm partners.

Randy loved it all and was hungry for more. He prided himself on having plethora of knowledge from studying numerous court cases and could easily cite one pertinent to another case on the spot. His quick mind helped him negotiate a hefty six figure salary—something no new lawyer has done.

Above all, he was strikingly handsome with intense blue eyes, a body like Adonis, and an undeniable swagger that commanded attention—whether or not you want to give it to him.

As he drove home, he decided to stop by the local strip spot, Purrfection. It was close to his home and besides the delicious eye candy, Purrfection was also known for their drinks. When Randy entered the bar, he noticed it was filled to near capacity. Patrons were standing alongside the walls and none of the booths were available.

Randy took a spot at the bar and ordered a brandy. "Pretty busy for a Tuesday, isn't it?" He asked the bartender.

Michael Cole served Randy's drink and nodded towards the stage. "It's always busy when Kink performs."

"Kink? Like K-I-N-K?"

"Yep, she's our star act, the crowd favorite." Michael replied as the lights dimmed. The place instantly became quiet. The booming bass line echoed throughout the tiny club.

Suddenly, with a shone spotlight on her, Lisa seemingly appeared out of nowhere, She was wearing a suit and tie boyshort-outfit that barely covered her ass. She had long blonde hair, deep brown eyes, and pouty pink lips that had every man fantasize what they would look like on their cocks.

She seductively walked down the stage, swaying her body to the hypnotic rhythm, slowly undressing and teasing. As Lisa looked around the club, she saw the familiar patrons—the husbands who obviously lied to their wives; the businessmen, who flashed dollar bills from the moment they stepped inside; and the female admirers, who wanted just a taste of her.

But Lisa noticed someone different. She noticed the tall guy with model features and the blue eyes that seemed to sparkle in darkness. Ooh, a new one! She slowly began to perform specifically for Randy, giving him his own strip show just for him in front a crowd of 75 people.

Randy wasn't complaining. Lisa was sex, from head to toe. From her beautiful and soft breasts that called his attention; to her toned abs with a tantalizing belly ring; to her long, sleek legs; to her perfectly rounded ass. He wanted her—and he wanted her something bad.

As she finished up her show, Lisa gathered the money from the floor and went into the back room. Randy turned to Michael and inquired about her. "That Kink—does she give private dances?"

"She does, but as you can tell, she's real popular. You might have to wait."

No, I don't wait for anyone. "Alright, thanks for the tip." Randy slid a ten to Michael and patiently waited for Lisa's reappearance.

When Lisa did appear from behind the back room, she was wearing just a bikini top and boyshorts. All of the men anxiously had twenty-dollar bills out ready for her to choose them for a lap dance but she was more interested in the new guy. Randy managed to find a spot against the wall and he caught Lisa's attention.

She walked over to him and stood directly in front of him. "Hey stranger, I haven't seen you around here before."

"I'm new." Randy replied.

"I noticed. Probably why I said, 'Hey stranger, I haven't seen you around here before.'" Lisa smiled.

_She's fine and she's smart. I like this one_. "Cute." He smirked.

"I know." She winked. "May I interest you in a lap dance?"

Randy pulled out a hundred-dollar bill and Lisa's eyes instantly lit up. "I want my monies worth."

Lisa quickly snatched the bill from Randy and grabbed his left hand. "You got it."

She led Randy to a private room. This was the area for the VIPs, with the chenille sofas, champagne chilled and an exotic selection of fruits and cheese on a nearby tray. The room was dimly lit and there were candles everywhere. There was a small stereo system in the corner with a vast array of CDs.

"I like to be up close and personal with my clients, so what's your name?" Lisa asked.

"Randy, Randy Orton." He replied as he snacked on a strawberry.

"Nice to meet you, Randy." She smiled.

"May I ask what your legal name is?"

"My legal name?" Lisa smirked. "Sounds like we have a lawyer on our hands."

Randy nodded. "Yes, I am. Just started."

"Good to know." Lisa said.

Randy took a spot on the sofa and waited patiently for Lisa to get prepared. She put on a CD and began to move her body to the rhythm. She chose a fast song to strip to and Randy noticed. It was "Rock Your Body" by Justin Timberlake.

"Kinda of a fast song for a private dance, isn't it?" Randy inquired.

Lisa straddled Randy and whispered in his right ear. "My dance, my money, my music." She then got off him and began to dance to the song again.

She rolled her hips to the pounding beat and hypnotically shook her hips. She tossed her head around and bent over to show Randy up close and personal—her best assets.

Randy wasn't a fan of pop music, namely anything associated with a boy band. But Lisa instantly made him want to go out and buy Justin Timberlake's latest CD.

"Talk to me, boy." Lisa mouthed as she straddled Randy yet again. "Talk to me, boy."

Randy was increasingly fighting a hard-on that was building in his slacks but Lisa felt it and grinded against Randy's lap even more. Her breasts were pressed against his chest and she was loving the power she was getting by manipulating yet another man. "Talk to me, boy."

Randy knew the no-touch policy was in effect and strictly abided by those rules. The last thing he needed was a civil lawsuit against him brought against a stripper. "Uh, uh, uh."

She ripped open Randy's shirt to reveal his very-impressive muscular build. "I'll have you naked by the end of this song." Lisa then nibbled on one of Randy's earlobes. She then moved his hands to her backside as she continued to grind on him. "You like how I'm riding you, Randy? You like how my ass feels? " She whispered.

Randy nodded his head violently as if he couldn't get any words out.

Lisa giggled. "Good." Soon, the song ended and Lisa climbed off Randy. She poured two glasses of champagne and handed one to Randy. She then handed the hundred dollar bill back to Randy. "Here."

"Why are you giving this to me?"

"Well, you're going to need to buy another shirt and I'm pretty sure what you're wearing was expensive."

Randy brushed off Lisa's gesture. "Save the money. I'm sure you're going to need it to buy school books, child care, or whatever you need to do support yourself."

Lisa shook her head. Randy—just like everyone else—has heard of every tired excuse all strippers have used at some point or another. Lisa would be lying if she said she hasn't used the same excuses, herself. "Not in school, don't have any children, and I'm supporting myself just fine."

Randy glanced back at Lisa. "How about this? I'll let you buy me another shirt as long as I get a date with you."

Lisa wasn't surprised. She always had guys begging her to go out with them and she got a thrill shooting them down. "I don't date clients, Orton."

"I don't date strippers, Kink."

"The name is Lisa, Lisa Hernandez."

"Well, then. Since we got to know each other on a first-name basis, and I'm offering to take you out somewhere nice instead of Burger King and a movie, what's your offer?"

Lisa was surprised. Randy challenged her in the same manner that she challenged all of her clients. "One date, and that's it. But I'm letting you know right now—don't expect any ass."

Randy nodded. "Deal."

Lisa smiled. "Good."

And that was the beginning of the end.


	3. Pretty Woman Meets Versace

A few days have passed since Lisa and Randy made their date yet they haven't spoken with each other all week. Not too concerned with going out on a date with a one-time client, Lisa kept busy performing at Purrfection.

"So Kink, have you heard from that hot-ass guy?" Stacy Keibler, aka Legs, asked her.

Lisa shook her head. "No, and I doubt that I will." She shrugged. "Oh well, I didn't think he was serious anyways."

Candice Michelle, aka Candy, joined the conversation. "He's a bonafide playboy. He thinks that because you're a stripper, you're automatically easy pussy. He's not worth your time anyways."

"Besides," Maria, aka Princess, contributed. "What about Trish anyways?"

Just as Lisa was about to reply, there was an interruption on the dressing room door. "Kink," Purrfection's owner, Victoria, called out. "You have a visitor."

"Is it Trish?" Lisa asked.

"Some hot guy." Victoria smiled.

Lisa shook her head. _Is this motherfucker stalking me?_ She hurried out to meet Randy, who was waiting by the bar holding a rose. When Lisa approached him, he smiled and kissed her cheek. "For you, my dear."

Lisa accepted the rose. She felt herself blushing under the ceiling lights. "Thank you, Orton."

"I came by to see if we were still on for this week."

"You could've called me to find out."

"I could've, yes. But I don't know your schedule and let's face it, you're always here."

Lisa concurred. "True. Well, I'm still game if you are."

"Good." Randy smiled. "I guess I'll be seeing you on Saturday."

"Did you want anything to eat or drink? It's on the house."

Randy shook his head. "I'm fine." He softly kissed Lisa's lips. "I'll call you tomorrow, baby." He then turned to head out the door.

Lisa sniffed the rose that Randy brought her. She was trying heaven and hell to deny the feelings that he brought out but somehow he kept her smiling. And she was pissed off at him for doing so. An unspoken rule in the adult entertainment industry is that one should not become to close to the clients they serve. It was dangerous, it could create problems, and it was nowhere near being healthy.

Yet, Lisa felt like she wanted Randy to be that dangerous and unhealthy problem in her life.

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_I don't look too bad. I actually look pretty damn good. _

Lisa admired herself in the mirror. Not sure about where Randy was taking her exactly but reluctant to go spend any amount of money just to be seen with him, Lisa raided her closet for her finest wear. She never spent money on designer handbags and name brands like the other girls at Purrfection.

Instead, she saved and saved and saved. She really had no idea what she was saving up for or any kind of goal for that matter. All she knew that she would get by on the allowance she gave herself and when the opportunity came about, she'll figure out exactly what it was that she wanted to buy. But for now, she'll live on Hot Pockets and Macaroni & Cheese.

Just as she was putting the finishing touches on her makeup, her doorbell rang. She quickly sprayed some perfume on and greeted Randy at the door.

"I'm ready to go." Lisa said.

Randy looked at her appearance. She was looking nothing short of a Playboy Special Edition model. Her micro-mini barely covered her ass and her halter top was having the same effect with her breasts. If they were going out to a nightclub, she was dressed to delicious perfection. But they were going out to a high-end event with his fellow counsel and many businessmen and their wives. And Randy wasn't about to show up with a Pretty Woman reject.

Lisa studied Randy's face. She wasn't sure if he was amazed by her attire or second-thinking about the date. "What's wrong? You don't like it?"

"No, I love it." Randy thought quickly as he checked his watch. "We need to head out now."

Lisa smiled. "Okay, I'm ready."

Randy stepped aside as he closed Lisa's door. _I'm not quite sure if I am._

_-----------------------_

As they headed out to the dinner in Randy's brand new Mercedes, the pair talked about current events and celebrity gossip, since Randy often dealt with many celebrities at the firm. He was about two blocks away from the hotel when he decided to pull over.

"Are we here?" Lisa looked around.

"Actually, we're making a stop here." Randy said as he pulled into Saks Fifth Avenue.

Once inside the store, Randy met with the clerk as Lisa browsed through various items of clothing. Randy picked up a simple, strapless black dress for her. He didn't know her size but estimated that she was a 12 due to her curves and pear-shaped figure. "Try this one on." He handed her the dress.

Lisa eyeballed the dress. It had sequins, rhinestones and a nice shiny price tag of five hundred dollars. "I'm not wearing that. I can't afford it."

"I'm paying for it, Lisa." Randy added.

"Well, in that case, I'll try it on!" She smiled as she grabbed the dress from him.

Once inside the dressing room, Lisa slipped out of her short skirt and halter top and into the slinky dress. The dress fit her like a glove and she felt amazing in it. As she stepped outside the dressing room, she caught Randy's attention. He was staring at her and a smile formed on his face.

"Like it?" Lisa asked.

Randy nodded as he licked his lips. "Love it. We're taking it."

Lisa walked up to Randy and hugged him. She whispered in his ear. "Thank you."

He wrapped his arms around her back. "You're welcome."

"And Randy?"

"Yes, Lisa?"

"Just so there is no confusion, I'm not fucking you tonight."

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	4. Who Are You?

_Author's Note: Thank you to all for the reviews. This story is actually based on a true story I've seen on Snapped (hence the title). So to Aspiring Actress, I hope that answers your question! (love that show!)_

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In the business world, there are three things that every business man tries to achieve: money, power, and pussy—in that order. Once you get the money, you get the power. Once you get the power, you get the pussy. It was very cut and dry.

And no one represented that more than Vince McMahon. Practicing law for nearly forty years and counting, he was known to be the most ruthless of them all. Whether it was embarrassing a rape victim because of her sexual past or blackmailing a rival firm, he was definitely the man that everyone loved to hate—and inspired to become.

McMahon & Associates were one of the most powerful law firms in all of Los Angeles. They represented a number of different areas of law: entertainment, criminal, personal injury and the like. They were known to be cutthroat, thorough, and had a track record that often silenced their critics and detractors.

And naturally, Randy was Vince's protégé.

Vince was taken up with Randy's hunger and voracity when he interviewed him. When Vince asked him how bad he wanted the job, he knew based on Randy's answer, he was a keeper.

"_How bad do I want this job? Pardon me for saying, Mr. McMahon but you'd be one stupid son of a bitch if you didn't hire me." _

Randy was offered the position right then and there.

Walking into the Montage Hotel & Resort, all eyes were on the prize. With his undeniable swagger and confidence that teetered on cockiness, Randy was dressed to kill in his Armani finest. With Lisa looking equally stunning with her sweeping up-do and strapless dress, they were definitely a beautiful couple. And heads were turning—just like Randy wanted them to.

Asking Lisa out was not a fluke idea. He knew that he would have the best looking date that night. And he figured why spend five hundred dollars to hire an escort when he could spend the exact same money making Lisa feel like a million bucks. He knew was he was doing from the moment he asked her out. And he also planned to stop by Saks to change her attire because he knew he wasn't going to like it.

A waiter serving drinks walked past the couple and Randy grabbed two glasses of champagne for him and Lisa. Lisa took a couple sips but soon quickly downed the champagne as Randy watched. "Nervous?" Randy asked.

Lisa nodded and tossed the champagne glass in a nearby plant. "Mm hmm, just a little."

Randy gave her hand a quick squeeze as they walked through the corridor. "You'll be fine, baby."

Vince McMahon approached Randy and Lisa. A tall blonde accompanied him. "Randy Orton, glad you came."

Randy shook Vince's hand. "Thank you, sir."

Vince looked at Lisa, who was noticeably quiet. "And who do we have here?"

"Vince, this is Lisa, my date for the night."

Vince kissed Lisa's hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Lisa."

"Pleasure to meet you, Vince."

"So what is it that you do, Ms…"

"Hernandez. I'm in the performing arts." She smiled as Randy looked over to her.

Vince smiled. "Really? Are you an actress? An artist?"

Randy's face froze as Lisa began to speak. He hoped to hell that she wouldn't say anything that slightly referenced her stripping. "A dancer. I dance." Lisa smiled.

"Nice. Where are you performing?"

"I travel with a dancing troupe so I don't just perform in one area."

As Lisa was talking to Vince, Randy became more impressed with her. He thought for sure that she was going to be more honest than he cared for. Instead, she made him look that much better in front of his colleagues and associates. _Brains, beauty, and booty. I like this girl._

As Lisa was talking to Vince, one of Randy's associates approached Randy. Jonathan Coachman was known to be the biggest brown-noser on the west side of the Mississippi. Whatever there was an opportunity to kiss Vince's ass, Jonathan was first in line. Needless to say, he hated that Randy took his coveted spot. "Hey kid." Jonathan shook his hand.

"Hey ass-kisser…um, Jon." Randy smirked.

Jonathan shook his head. "Funny, Orton. Real funny." He then looked over at Lisa. "So how much is she charging you by the hour?"

"She's not charging me." Randy then noticed Jonathan's buxom date. "But I can see that you're going to work overtime to pay for that credit card bill."

Jonathan shook his head. "You know, kid. I was here before you and I've destroyed many of you that have been in my way. Year after year, some little-ass punk comes up thinking that he's all high and mighty…just to be destroyed by me."

"And yet, you're still in the exact same position whereas I'm above you now, aren't I?" Randy laughed before his face turned serious. "Don't let the pretty face fool you, Coach. Don't fuck with the Kid. I will take your ass out."

Before Jonathan could retort, Vince interrupted them. "Well, well, Jonathan, nice to see that you have made it." Vince said as he greeted him. "I need to go mingle with the other guests." He then turned his attention back to Lisa. "It was a pleasure meeting with you, Ms. Hernandez."

"Pleasure is all mine, Vince." She smiled.

Lisa waited for Vince to leave before she spoke to Randy. "What was that about?"

"What was what about?"

"Don't play stupid, Orton. I heard you and your friend."

"He's not my friend and he'll never be my friend." He said as he looked at Jonathan laughing up a storm with Vince. "He's just someone I need to get rid of in a hurry."

The way Randy spoke scared Lisa. He went from being a charming man to something short of a sociopath. She wasn't entirely sure if it was his pure ambition and determination or annihilation that was in Randy's voice. "I see."

Randy turned to Lisa and held her hands. "What you just witnessed is how I act in business. I'm not like that all the time. I don't want you to be scared of me, okay?"

Lisa smiled. "Okay."

"Good." He kissed her cheek. "Now let's enjoy our evening."

Although he told her not to be scared, it was that moment Lisa would always be afraid of what Randy could be capable of.


	5. Getting It

When Lisa was a little girl, her mother sent her to etiquette class so she would learn how to act like a lady in public. She grew up a tomboy and her mother felt that at some point in her life, Lisa was going to need to act appropriately. She learned things such as how to cross her legs to proper posture. _Funny how I still became a stripper. _

But when the salads arrived, Lisa was grateful that she remembered which fork was the salad fork. She didn't think anyone was watching her yet she had the feeling of a constant glare from other people in the room, as if they were paying attention to her every move. If she wasn't self-conscious about accompanying Randy to the dinner before, she definitely felt it once she sat down.

As she ate the filet mignon dinner, Lisa kept quiet as Randy and another lawyer talked about current cases and what they would do differently. Lisa was attracted by Randy's power, his intelligence, and his pure braggadocio. As he asserted himself more throughout the evening, Lisa could see herself accompanying to more of Randy's events, playing the good girlfriend.

But Lisa remembered that the date was a one-time thing. And by the end of the evening, she would probably not hear from Randy ever again. _Oh well. At least that I got a nice dress out of it. _

Randy leaned closer to Lisa and grabbed her hand underneath the table. "How are you doing?"

Lisa nodded and smiled. "I'm doing fine. How are you?"

"I'm doing fine." Randy whispered in her ear. "I forgot to tell you earlier but you look absolutely stunning tonight. I have the best looking date here."

Lisa slightly blushed as she took a sip of her blush wine. "Thank you."

"No, thank you." Randy brushed his lips against her cheek. "I can't thank you enough."

Lisa smiled as she accepted Randy's compliments. For the first time in a long while, someone made her feel a bit tingly.

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Later that night, Randy and Lisa were talking on the balcony above the atrium. The evening had been a success for them both. Lisa helped Randy's reputation by becoming the achieved prize that all men wanted. Meanwhile, Randy further impressed his colleagues and his boss with his charm and intelligence.

"Did you enjoy yourself tonight?" He asked, sipping on champagne.

Lisa nodded. "I did. It was an eye-opening experience."

"What do you mean?"

Lisa sighed as she looked around her. "This, Randy, this. The Dolce & Gabbana, the Roberto Cavalli…" She then looked down at her dress. "The Versace…this is all so foreign to me. I'm not saying that it's bad but it's like…it's like…." She paused.

"It's like what?"

Lisa turned around and looked down at the extravagance of the ball. "Everyone here has money, has happiness, and has what they want. When I was in the bathroom, I overheard two women talking about how hard it is to find hired help. Where I'm from, you're lucky if you have enough money to buy groceries."

"So what do you want, Lisa?" Randy asked.

"What do you mean, 'what do I want?'"

"It's obvious that you're not happy with your current life but it's clear that you're not ready for this life." Randy gestured out to the atrium.

"Does this make you happy?" Lisa asked. "All of this?"

Randy looked over to her and shrugged. "I'll be lying if I said that it didn't."

"But it's obvious that you want more than this." She walked closer to Randy and spoke softly. "You want it all."

"I think everyone wants it all. A lot of people like to claim that they don't need fancy cars and nice jewelry yet millions of people play the lottery every year." Randy replied. "What do you want?"

"Honestly?"

"Preferably."

Lisa sighed. "Free. I want to be free."

"Free from what?"

"Free from everything."

Randy glanced at Lisa. "You know, I could make that happen for you."

Lisa sipped her champagne and shook her head. She's been promised trips around the world and free rent by men whose intentions were beyond questionable. "And you know you're not going to."

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After leaving the gala, Randy drove Lisa back to her apartment. During the drive, he grabbed her hand as they listened to the jazz music. The top was down on the convertible and Lisa spent her time gazing up at the stars. She closed her eyes as she let the wind blow through her hair and set her mind at ease.

Randy glanced over to her as he kept driving. He knew there was more to Lisa than she was willing to admit but he also knew that it was going to take a lot of time and effort to get her to see that she deserved the best. Better yet, she deserved him.

The car pulled up along the curbside and Lisa opened her eyes. Her wonderful evening had finally come to an end. Randy got out of his car and opened Lisa's door for her. As they walked up to her front door, there was a noticeable and uncomfortable silence between the pair. Neither wanted the date to end but they both agreed that it was only a one-time thing.

"Um, well, I guess I'm here." Lisa smiled uncomfortably.

"I guess so." Randy leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Thank you for accompanying me."

Lisa secretly hoped that Randy wouldn't be the gentleman he was all evening and become a bit more aggressive. _But I did tell him not to expect any ass. _"Well, thank you for a wonderful night." Lisa commented.

"I'll see you around, Lisa."

"See you around, Orton. Whenever I need a lawyer, I'll give you a call." She smiled.

"You do that." Randy replied.

Lisa unlocked her front door and entered her apartment. _Now I know how Cinderella felt when she had to return home to a shitty place after the ball. _ She frowned slightly and sighed. Despite the great evening that the other strippers would be jealous of ten times over, Lisa felt disappointed. She was disappointed that she became attached to a guy that she wasn't going to see anymore. She was disappointed that she let a guy weasel his way into her heart.

Above all, her disappointment gave way to her tingly feelings of desire. If she was only going to see him for one night, she might as well make it a good one. She rushed to her front door and called him. "Randy?"

He turned around. "Yes?"

Lisa walked over to him and put her arms around his waist. "I forgot to say good-night to you."

There was no hesitation as the pair found each other's lips. Slightly trailing his tongue over her lips, Randy began playing with Lisa's bottom lip, gently sucking on it. He pulled her closer to him as he caressed her back, wanting to rip her clothes off but trying to restrain himself.

Lisa grabbed the back of Randy's head and opened her mouth more to accommodate his eager tongue. He played with her tongue as if he has known her. He gently sucked on her neck, careful not to cause any hickies. He then softly played with her left earlobe and finally made his way back to her mouth, still maintaining the gentle kisses from before.

Meanwhile, Lisa felt a desire that was beyond her control. She never felt like she wanted someone more the way she wanted Randy. She held the back of neck, pulling him closer to her and wanting more of him.

"Let's go inside." She breathed.

Randy kissed Lisa's cheek as he breathed hard. She was tugging on his belt buckle and Randy felt even more turned on just by Lisa's pure animal desire. "I thought you said I shouldn't expect ass."

Lisa stepped away from Randy and ripped his shirt open. She began to caress his hard pecs, lightly trailing her fingers over his nipples. "You shouldn't and I can tell that you didn't."

"So why the change of heart now?"

Lisa softly nibbled on his nipples, emitting low moans from Randy. "When I see something, I go after it." She then looked up at him. "Now are we going to go inside and have great sex or are you going to go home and jerk off because you were too stupid to fuck me?"


	6. Raw

_Author's Note: This chapter contains strong sexual content._

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When Lisa moved inside her new apartment, she took deliberate time to pick out everything that suited her. She agonized on what theme she wanted for her living room—whether it was a beach or country home. She decided that her bathroom was going to have sea-blue color while her bedroom was going to be a princess-fantasy type. Her kitchen was going to be decked out with the most modernized appliances that suited her style. Her apartment was cozy, modern and notoriously clean.

Too bad that style didn't last long the moment Randy and Lisa entered her apartment.

The pair tried their best to make it to her bedroom while stripping each other's clothing. Lisa's pricey dress was torn in unimaginable places while Randy's equally expensive suit and its own share of rips and tears. They didn't pay attention to anything around them as they were knocking over lamps, tables, and magazines. But they couldn't make it past the living room.

Needing her right then and there, Randy hoisted Lisa against the wall, and wrapped her legs around his waist. He entered her and wasted no time thrusting inside her hard and fierce. Lisa grabbed the back of Randy's head as she encouraged him to give it to her harder. Randy complied and soon Lisa's back was hitting against the wall.

Soon, pictures from the walls were falling down and breaking but Lisa didn't care. She wasn't too concerned about the mess she needed to clean.

Randy carried Lisa to the sofa and sat her down. He then stepped out of his clothing as Lisa disrobed what was left of her dress. He then climbed on the couch and began to feed his shaft to Lisa's mouth, slowly pumping inside her warm mouth. Lisa encompassed Randy's cock in her mouth, trying to take as much of it as she could. Randy was amazed how expert and willing her mouth was, occasionally pulling on her hair as he rolled his eyes to the back of his head.

After enough tongue-teasing, Lisa straddled Randy. The new position was almost too much to bear as the lovers moaned at the intensity of the friction. She sat lower and lower on him, wanting to feel all of him inside her. It was a little painful at times, but it felt like heaven as she eased up and down on his rock-hard shaft. She rode him furiously, keeping eye contact on him and digging her nails into his chest.

Wanting to show her how it was done, Randy took control and moved Lisa off his shaft. He then bent her over on the couch and immediately set a fast pace. He braced her hips as he talked dirty to her, encouraging her screams. After he pulled out and shot all over her, Randy then flipped Lisa over and began to lick her nub at a furious pace, wanting her to climax immediately. Soon, Lisa felt her body arched off the couch as she erupted in a cry of pleasure as her orgasm washed over her.

Sweaty, exhausted, and satisfied found Lisa and Randy as they fell asleep in a spooning position on the floor. They would have sex a few more times that night, much more animalistic and intense than the previous encounters. Neither thought anything was wrong with the night—until the following morning.

---------------------------------

Lisa woke up looking at a disaster area. Her bookcase was tipped over and various items were broken. As Lisa adjusted her vision, she noticed her expensive dress was in a bundle in the far corner of the room. But her dress wasn't her concern. Randy was nowhere to be found.

Instead, a nice consolation prize of twenty crisp one-hundred dollars bills were stacked neatly right next to her on the floor. And Lisa was more than a tad bit upset at the gesture.

"That motherfucker…"She muttered, hastily getting up and finding clothes to wear. "He's going to treat me like I'm some goddamn prostitute; I'll show his fucking ass." She then remembered where Randy worked at and how he could be found.

"Fucker wants to play head games. We'll play head games."

--------------------------------

Randy was privately going over a brief in his office. For a new attorney, his office was very extravagant. He had a black leather couch facing his oak desk, which had chrome accessories on it. There was a miniature bar in the corner to entertain his guests and a small table to have conferences with his clients.

Yet, despite having a nice car and working for a very prestigious firm, Randy still didn't he had made it. Vince took years to build his reputation and wealth as the leading law firm in all of Los Angeles and Randy wanted the same.

But he needed to work on his concentration if he wanted to be even slightly successful. He kept thinking about the amazing night he spent with Lisa from the time he picked her up to orgasms she kept giving him over and over. She was brainy, bossy, and bold. She was definitely his equal and Randy was ready for the challenge she presented.

But he also knew a possible relationship could never survive between the two of them. They had a lot in common but it was their obvious differences that separated them. And Randy wasn't sure if seriously dating a stripper with a stage name like "Kink" was in his best interests, no matter how much he wanted her.

Yet, that was the least of Randy's concerns. He was interrupted by his office door swinging wide open. "Mr. Orton, I tried to stop her." His receptionist, Ashley Massaro, said as she followed Lisa into the office.

"What the fuck is this?" Lisa yelled, flashing the hundred dollar bills.

Randy took off his reading glasses and set them on the table. "Ashley, can you excuse us please?"

"No, she can stay and see how big of a fucking asshole you are!" Lisa screamed.

"Ashley." Randy directed towards the door as she left and closed the door behind her. "Calm down, Lisa. Everyone will hear you."

"Do you think I give a fuck if people hear me? I'm not your goddamn prostitute, Orton!"

"I didn't think you were, Lisa."

"Then what the fuck is this?" She threw the money at Randy. "I don't get paid for services, asshole."

Randy sighed and rolled his eyes. "Are you done? I want to explain myself."

"What in the fuck do you have to explain, Orton? What? What?"

"I left the money for you to cover your dress and your apartment. Let's face it, last night we both tore shit up. I thought I was being generous by leaving you the donation…"

"Oh, so I'm a charity case now?"

"Woman, would you let me get a word in?" Randy interrupted her. "Thank you. Like I was trying to say, I left the money for you to cover your expenses. Had I known you were going to react in this manner, I would've left a note for damn sure."

"Well, how did you expect I was going to react when some guy throws a wad of cash at me after I fucked him?" Lisa stood her ground.

Randy's attitude went from irritation to intrigue. There was something unusual about Lisa's anger that excited him. He wasn't annoyed with her like his past girlfriends but challenged him. And he liked it—a lot. He walked over to Lisa and snaked his arms around her waist. But Lisa wasn't trying to play more into the Orton style. "What in the hell are you doing?"

"I'm taking what's mine." Randy smiled.

"I'm yours now?" Lisa asked.

"Do you want to be?" Randy replied.

"Maybe." Lisa smiled. "But no charity cases. I have a job and pay my own bills. If I wanted your goddamn assistance, I would've asked for it."

"There's nothing wrong with having a generous boyfriend, Lisa."

"Since when are you my boyfriend? I don't remember agreeing to that shit."

"Are you always this fucking stubborn about things?"

"Yes, I am." Lisa said. "Especially when it comes to assholes like you."

"Fine, I'm not your fucking boyfriend."

"Fine, I'm not your fucking girlfriend."

"Fine."

"Fine."

Randy moved closer to her. "Are you turned on right now?"

"Even more." Lisa said as she pulled Randy into a kiss.

Within two months of dating, Lisa moved into Randy's home. And that was when the problems began.


	7. Losing Her Identity

Randy Keith Orton was born into an upper-class family in the suburbs of Los Angeles. His father, Bill, was a professor at UCLA while his mother, Carol, was a realtor. He had a younger sister, Tiffany, who was in school, studying to be a doctor. His parents instilled certain values and morals into Randy and Tiffany. Always shoot for the best and prepare for the worst. And never settle for second-best. Ever.

And that was more evident in the townhouse that Randy lived in. Every room had extravagance from wall to wall. There were stainless-steel appliances in the kitchen. A plasma TV was mounted on the living room wall. 600-count Egyptian sheets and a feather down comforter on the California King bed. While Lisa's apartment was straight out of an IKEA magazine, Randy's town home was an advertisement for Pottery Barn.

_California King? No surprise he chose that size. _Lisa smirked.

Randy left early that morning to prepare for a court case, leaving Lisa at home and quite bored. As Lisa fixated herself on the couch to get ready to watch her morning rounds of soap operas and talk shows, she briefly looked around at her surroundings. Randy represented everything that she had ever wanted and never desired to get.

But for the time being, she had to get used to the Orton-way of living. When Randy asked Lisa to move in with him, there was a disagreement on what to do with her items. Randy suggested donating them to charity. Not wanting to part with her furniture and prized possessions, Lisa chose an alternative that pleased both her and Randy: she placed her items in storage.

Spending her whole entire day of sleeping and watching T.V., Lisa didn't realize that time flew by doing absolutely nothing before she had to get ready for work. She showered up and put on her Juicy Couture sweat suit—courtesy of Randy. When Lisa moved in, Randy also bought her a brand-new wardrobe.

Lisa was on her way out the door when Randy arrived home. "Hey Baby."

"Hey honey!" Lisa ran to him and kissed him. "How was your day?"

"Same ole, same ole. One thing I've learned in law practice is that you can make something idiot-proof and someone will just make a bigger idiot." Randy looked at Lisa's attire. "Where are you going?"

"Silly, I'm going to work." Lisa glanced down at her new Cartier watch that Randy bought for her. "Speaking of which, I need to jet now."

"Baby, I've been thinking…"

"Yes?"

"You're a smart woman, Babe. You have a lot of talent, ambition, goals….you're really valuable."

"Yes?"

"Why don't you become a paralegal?"

"I'll look into it." Lisa said as she kissed Randy's cheek. "But honey, I'm running late."

Randy grabbed Lisa's hand before she could take another step. "Let's talk about this."

"Randy, can this wait? I'm really running…."

"Now, Lisa." He said sternly.

Lisa dropped her bag at the door. She wasn't even the least bit amused. "This better be quick, Orton."

Randy led Lisa to the sofas and sat down. He caressed her right hand and kissed it. "Baby, you're a smart and beautiful woman. You're much better than taking off your clothes and shaking your ass in front a group of horny bastards."

"You didn't have a problem with it, Orton."

"I didn't have a problem with it when we were just fuck buddies. You're my girlfriend now, it's a little different."

Lisa folded her arms. "Sounds like someone has caught the jealousy bug."

Randy shook his head. "I'm not jealous."

"You're not jealous yet you're giving me this speech?" Lisa inquired.

"I'm just saying, Lisa…you're so much better than stripping. I mean, the girls that you hang around with? What do they have going for them?"

"Well, I…I…" Lisa felt like she was on the spot defending her best friends. "I never thought of it. They're great girls, Randy."

"I'm not saying they're not, Baby. But you have something that goes above and beyond than just showing your tits." He kissed her hand again. "I'm just saying think about it."

Lisa nodded. "Okay. I'll quit tonight."

---------------------------------------------

The smoky purple haze crept throughout the nightclub when one first arrived. It was dark, mysterious; something out of a science-fiction movie. The music had a bass line that felt like an afterthought because all one was concentrating on was the show in front of them. The whispers from the strippers inquiring about lap dances tickled the patrons' ears as they were willing to hand over wads and wads of cash that could've been spent on their children's tuition or groceries for their wives.

It was intoxicating. It was exciting. It was Purrfection. And it was Lisa's home away from home for the past three years and she loved every aspect of it. Best of all, she loved the power she receive manipulating the men to her whim. Another reason that Lisa didn't want to give up her furniture was that she paid for none of it. All of the furniture from her bedroom to her living room were gifts from clients.

And Lisa had a nagging feeling that she was making a mistake by quitting. She didn't want to leave her job but she never explored her options as Randy suggested that she should. But it wasn't leaving Purrfection that was bothering her most. It was the unshakable feeling that she was slowly losing her identity that was haunting her soul.

After her final performance that racked in a lot of money, Lisa headed towards the dressing room and began clear out her area. The rest of the girls were sad to see her go and made plans to take her out to dinner—without Randy. There were bitter feelings from the collective that Lisa's decision had a strong case of Orton played into it.

"So why are you quitting?" Victoria asked.

Lisa kept packing her items away. "Because I feel it's time for me to move on."

"Or because your hubby wants you to quit." Stacy grinned.

Lisa shot a nasty look at Stacy. "He's not my fucking husband."

"Might as well be." Candace added.

Lisa threw her garments in the bag and faced her soon to be former co-workers. "Guys, it's not like that. Randy suggested that I move on and I agreed."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa….Randy suggested that you 'move on?'" Maria inquired. "It all makes sense now."

"Sweetie, don't you see what he's doing to you? He's manipulating your mind! You never had a problem telling anyone that you're a stripper. And now? You act like it's the most degrading job out there!"

"Well, it's time that I moved on. I'm not knocking what you're doing. I just don't think it's for me anymore." Lisa shrugged.

"Just out of curiosity, Kink, if you and Randy weren't dating, would you still have quit?" Victoria asked.

Lisa finished packing the rest of her items and turned her head. "Yes, and my name is Lisa."

---------------------------------------------

"Tomorrow we'll pick up testimony from the defense. Court adjourned for the day." Judge Garcia slammed her gable on the bench.

Lisa and Dave hustled through the photographers and media to their awaiting limo. Dave was briefly looking over questions when Lisa spoke. "I don't want her to testify, Dave."

Dave put away his notes and turned to Lisa. "I don't think you have a choice in the matter. It was either I call her as a witness or the prosecution did it."

Lisa began fidgeting in the limo. "She has nothing to do with this at all."

"Oh, I think she has plenty to do with it." Dave looked over at her. "She can only help, Lisa."

Lisa thought about the last time she spoke with Trish. Their conversation wasn't necessarily the friendliest one. "Or she can hurt me."

Lisa was interested in what Trish had to say. But she was also not that fond that their reunion of sorts happened during a most peculiar time. They haven't spoken to each other for months since she and Randy got married and barely saw each other since the murder.

But Lisa hoped for the best and prepared herself for the worse. Trish was once her best friend, her partner in crime—and her lover.


	8. Jekyll and Hyde

_Author's Note: I apologize for the delay on updating this story but it's my most challenging story to date. It's one of those stories that you have to carefully plot out what you're going to say and this chapter alone has taken me two weeks to write. _

_However, I'm surprised by the positive response the story has received so thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed. _

_---------------------------------------------------------------_

"I like to call Patricia Stratigias to the stand." Dave announced.

David Batista was a defense attorney to the stars. Mostly known for defending various rap artists who constantly got into trouble and former child stars that have kicked back one too many martinis, he was the man to call on whenever there was help needed.

He was Lisa's knight in shiny armor. And an expensive one, at that.

He was a domineering figure whose stature commanded attention. He was a strikingly handsome man with his soft brown skin and soul patch of facial hair caressing his face. Wanting to look good for the cameras and satisfying his own ego, he often treated himself to spa treatments.

Dave was known have a cocky attitude that wasn't blatant but subtle. He didn't have form counter arguments to the prosecution, instead letting the prosecution setting up their loopholes for him to get through. And it always worked. Dave had a track record of acquittals that were un-matched.

But the attention to his track record was nothing compared to the attention he received outside the courtroom. He was single with a teenage daughter from his former wife, who passed away to injuries sustained in a car accident. Putting his family and justice first, he made it point not to date until his daughter, Meredith, was at least in college. And Dave wasn't sure of that prospect.

However, that didn't stop admirers from filling up the courthouse to women sending him cards, letters and gifts for his services. Many women were willing to service Dave in exchange of him representing their husbands, boyfriends or other male figures. He wasn't sure how many sexual propositions he had received but he estimated it was well into the thousands. And he had only been practicing for eight years.

Dave was in sharp contrast to his rival, John Layfield. The two men had a mutual respect and hatred for each other. While Dave looked something like GQ of the year, John often looked like someone who just exited the local bar on his way to court. He was forming a beer belly that he boasted proudly. He often came to court with dishelved hair and a body odor that was indescribable.

But that didn't matter to him or to anyone else, for that matter. He loved being on TV and was often a guest on talk shows where he would badger other guests for being so stupid.

Yet, his reputation did nothing to his career. John was known to be brutal to the people he prosecuted, almost guaranteeing the maximum punishment available.

And Lisa couldn't have been a more prime candidate.

When John learned of Lisa's case, he figured it was going to be a solid open-and-shut case. She admitted that she killed Randy; there was the bloody knife with her fingerprints all over it. Easy conviction.

What John wasn't expecting was to be paired up against Dave. But John also smiled at the thought that there weren't enough defense theories in the world to get Dave an acquittal. That was, until, the jury selection was mostly of women.

And that's when John's case became a tad more difficult. Convincing a jury full of men that Lisa was a heartless bitch wasn't a problem. Convincing a jury full of women that Lisa deserved to get lethal injection was going to be a nightmare. Especially since Lisa claimed that Randy had threatened her and her children.

_This case was made for Oprah,_ John quipped.

Trish walked up to the stand. She was a petite woman and dressed in her business finest and high heels. She was a college student in the daytime and performed with a comedy improv group at night. She was gorgeous with her striking hazel eyes and long blonde hair that was made for Pantene advertisement. Better yet, she helped add to the fantasy of many men with her appearance.

When Trish was outed by the papers, radio talk shows all over the country began talking about how stupid Randy was for wanting Lisa to end her relationship with Trish. With Lisa being a hot temptress and Trish being just as desirable, no one could understand why Randy of all people would have a problem with it.

But Lisa knew. And more importantly so did Trish. She was sworn in and took her seat in the witness booth. She stated her name and nickname for all to hear and adjusted her microphone.

"Ms. Stratigias, do you know the defendant?" Dave asked.

Trish nodded as she looked at Lisa. "Yes, I know her."

"And how do you know the defendant?"

"She was my former girlfriend. We were lovers." Trish said softly.

"Describe how you and Ms. Hernandez met?"

Trish reminisced to her first encounter with Lisa. When Trish was performing one night at the Improv, she pulled Lisa on stage for a skit. Trish made sure that she partnered up with Lisa specifically and came in close contact to her.

After the show, Lisa invited Trish to watch her perform at Purrfection. Trish readily accepted the invite and showed up a few days later. When Lisa spotted Trish in the audience, there was electricity between the women that could be felt by everyone in the club.

The pair casually began hanging out, just getting to know each other. Then one night while drinking homemade margaritas and watching wrestling DVDs, Lisa made a move on Trish and they ended up making love on Trish's living room floor. Soon, their close friendship escalated to a full-blown relationship. And neither was ashamed or turned off by that.

"So is it safe to say that you and Ms. Hernandez weren't just lovers, you were actually in a committed relationship?" Dave asked.

"Yes." Trish said softly.

"Ms. Stratigias, could you please describe to the court the first time you met Mr. Orton?"

Trish sighed at the memory. Lisa and Randy were dating for six months when Trish met Randy. He was charming, sophisticated, and intelligent—everything that Lisa ever wanted. Trish wasn't sure how much Lisa had told Randy about their relationship or if Randy even knew about what they had. But all of her fears were settled during the lunch date.

_When Lisa excused herself to the ladies' room, Randy sipped his wine and glanced up at the bright sky and sipped his champagne. "You're a beautiful woman, Trisha."_

_Trish blushed. "Thank you, Randy. You're not too bad yourself."_

_Randy smiled as he swirled his champagne around his mouth. "So how long do you think this is going to last between you two?"_

_Trish squinted her eyes together. "I'm sorry, I'm not following you…"_

"_You two obviously aren't going to get married because you can't. You certainly can't have children and not many people are going to have two lesbos adopt kids." Randy shrugged. "I was just wondering." _

_Trish was in too much shock at what she heard to respond. Lisa's Prince Charming boyfriend was a bigoted asshole. "What happens between me and Lisa is between us, Randy."_

"_Oh, I beg to differ. I'm about to propose to her in a few weeks and all this bullshit you have going on with her is going to stop immediately. My future wife isn't going to be out whoring around like she used to. And if it means that she needs to be washed away of her past, so be it." _

_Trish was enraged. Randy completely morphed himself right before her. And she could no longer sit at the same table yet alone be in the same vicinity as him. She gathered her belongings as Randy watched. "Did I offend you?"_

_Trish shook her head and smirked. "Not at all, Orton." She then threw her full glass of champagne in Randy's face as other patrons watched in horror. "Not at all." She then left. _

Trish shook her head as she relived the memory. "I never spoke to him again after that."

"But that wasn't the last time you saw Ms. Hernandez, was it?" Dave questioned.

"No." Trish replied.

"Could you explain to the court why you kept seeing Ms. Hernandez despite her husband's objections?"

"Because we loved each other. We weren't just having sex and Lisa wasn't going through a phase. We had a love for each other. If I could, I would marry her." Trish then glanced at her former girlfriend. "But we had to keep it a secret."

"And why was that, Ms. Stratigias?"

"Because if Randy found out, he would kill us." Trish stated.

"OBJECTION!" John shouted. "Your honor, the witness is claiming something that no one has any proof of, including the witness herself."

"Your honor, the witness is merely stating her feelings, not making a claim." Dave replied.

"Overruled." Judge Garcia said.

Dave went back to questioning Trish. "Has Mr. Orton ever said that he would kill you and Ms. Hernandez if he ever found out?"

"No." Trish replied. "He didn't have to. He let us know through other ways."


	9. Who's Really the Victim?

Randy Orton was a man of many faces. With his potential clients and colleagues, he was brilliant and charming man who often cracked jokes. With his family, Randy was the good son, obedient to his mother and father. He helped finance his sister's education and gave his brother dating advice. He was, in their words, perfect.

And a perfect man needed a perfect wife to complement him.

To Lisa and Trish, however, Randy was the charming and brilliant asshole, who expected Lisa to be obedient. And he was just getting started with his future wife. Whether it was recommending her to watch more suitable and quality programming or spending thousands of dollars on a personal trainer, Randy made sure Lisa was everything she could be.

And everything he wanted her to be at the same time. And if she was unhappy, she was more than welcome to leave. But they both knew that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. He created a life for her that not only did she crave but so did every other woman in the country. Her bills were paid; she was no longer in debt and she wore the finest clothing.

All Lisa had to do was to keep her mouth shut.

"What behavior did Mr. Orton demonstrate towards you and Ms. Hernandez?" Dave continued his questioning.

"Well, if I called her and he picked up the phone, he would always say that she wasn't home or she was out with some of her friends. I would call her cell phone but Randy just had the calls forwarded to his phone. He always wanted to know where she was and who was calling her." Trish softly spoke.

"What did Mr. Orton say to you when you did talk to him?"

"He would tell me that I had no business calling his fiancée and that she wasn't gay anymore. I should just leave her alone." She said.

"Objection, your honor. That's hearsay."

Judge Garcia turned to Dave. "Counsel?"

"The witness is testifying to Mr. Orton's state of mind, your honor and it is completely admissible."

"Overruled." She noted.

"May I proceed, your honor?"

"Proceed."

"During this time, did you notice changes in Ms. Hernandez's appearance?"

Trish nodded. "Yes, I did." She replied.

"Please tell the court what changes did you see?"

Trish went into lengthy detail of Lisa's changing demeanor and appearance. Her penny-pinching ways fell to shopping spurges on items that she never worn or cared about. Lisa's friends also changed as well. Since she quit stripping and started going to night school, she associated with many of the wives and girlfriends of Randy's business partners.

To blend in and not stand out as much, Lisa became slimmer and her hair was getting lighter. Randy was proud of the hard work Lisa was making and often rewarded her with trips and jewelry for her efforts.

But she never enjoyed any of it. And often gave Trish the jewelry. But Lisa and Trish knew that the jewelry was a nice consolation prize. Trish didn't like the newest change in her girlfriend's behavior.

Lisa and Trish went from a couple who never said a bad word about each other to having petty arguments on a regular basis. Whether it was Lisa's spending habits or Randy dictating how many calories Lisa should be consuming, there was always a problem.

And Randy couldn't have been happier. It was exactly what he wanted. And the less time Lisa spent with Trish, the more time she spent with him. While Randy didn't have set rules for Lisa to follow, he made it clear that everything she did had to get his approval.

"She told me that she was trapped. Randy had access to her bank accounts and everything she owned. She said she wasn't able to leave if she wanted."

"No further questions at this time, your honor." Dave said as he walked back to the table.

John instantly got up and buttoned his tie. It was still unknown if Dave was going to put Lisa on the stand but John knew that if he couldn't tear down Lisa, he would do plenty of damaged to her little girlfriend. "Ms. Stratigias, how would you describe your relationship with the defendant?"

"It was happy. I loved her. I still do."

"Mm hmm and you described the defendant of being trapped in her relationship with the deceased?"

"Yes, that's correct."

"Do you ever remember a time that Ms. Hernandez threatened violence against the deceased?"

Trish shook her head. "Not that I can recall."

"Did you ever see Mr. Orton ever threaten Ms. Hernandez?"

Trish shook her head. "I never saw that but Lisa told me he did."

"I'm sure she did." John smiled. "Now you're sure that Ms. Hernandez never threatened physical violence to Mr. Orton?"

Trish looked at the ground as she suddenly remembered one time in particular. It was right after Lisa and Randy had a heated argument about her sudden weight gain of ten pounds. Lisa was above and beyond livid and heated. Randy felt that he had every right to call her "Miss Piggy" because of her vanity pound weight gain. If she could've killed Randy that night, she probably would have.

But soon the anger gave away to endless tears and despair. And Lisa finally broke down to Trish that night. She was tired of her new friends, her new appearance and especially her new life.

Trish looked over to Lisa. Tears were streaming down her face as she shook her head. "I…I…"

"Ms. Stratigias, Ms. Hernandez cannot help you out now. However, please be advised that you are under oath and any false statements will be subject to perjury." John advised.

Trish didn't remove her gaze from Lisa. Lisa was also crying herself but she motioned to Trish to give her testimony. "It's okay, baby." She mouthed. "It'll be fine."

"For the last time, Ms. Stratigias, what did Ms. Hernandez say to you what she would do to Mr. Orton?"

Trish took a deep breath as the tears streamed down her face. "She said that—'One of these days, I'm going to kill that motherfucker.'"

John Layfield smiled as Trish's testimony just helped solidify the prosecution's theory that Lisa's claim of self-defense was a joke. "I'm done questioning the witness, your honor."


	10. Behind the Scenes

Dave immediately got up to cross-examine Trish. "Ms. Stratigias, was the defendant upset when she made that remark?"

"Yes, she was." Trish spoke softly.

"And why was the defendant upset?"

"Because Randy was making fun of her weight gain." She replied.

"No further questions at this time, your honor."

Judge Garcia looked at Trish. "You may step down. Court is adjourned for the day." She slammed her gable down and exited the courtroom.

Once again fighting their way through the media blitz and paparazzi, Lisa and Dave headed towards their awaiting limo. Inside, Dave rubbed his temple and closed his eyes. He knew it was going to be a cakewalk for John the moment he put Trish on the stand. Nevertheless, Dave was happy with his decision.

Now only if the jury could remember the last thing Trish said after John's cross-examination.

"Have plans for the weekend?" Lisa asked, hoping to break the tension.

"No, I don't. And neither do you." He replied flatly.

"Geez, I'm just asking a question, Dave. You don't have to get all…"

"Serious? No, Lisa, I do. I have to get 'all serious' with you. The moment this case is done and you're free to do whatever you want, then we'll have fun."

Lisa looked over at her attorney. There was something cold and heartless in his tone that reminded her too much of Randy. "You don't like me, do you?"

"You're my client, Lisa."

"That wasn't my question."

"And that's my answer. Deal with it."

"I'm paying you a lot of money, Dave. You can be a bit nicer to me."

"An anonymous donor is paying me a lot of money, Lisa. You should be grateful."

Lisa slumped back into her seat. After a few moments, she looked over at him again and smiled. "I like you, David."

"I'm sure you do."

----------------------------------------

After dropping Lisa off at her townhome, Dave was headed home. His house was considerably nice, yet modest. It was a four bedroom, three bathroom home with high-vaulted ceilings and two fireplaces. The living room was decked out in the finest marble and two Mercedes were parked in the driveway. Windows surrounded the sprawling home and a bedroom was converted to a private gym.

While no one second-guessed that Dave's salary afforded the home, many didn't know the true secret of his fortune. His late wife, Elizabeth, was very business-keen and invested in many stocks and bonds. Elizabeth helped support Dave through law school and build his firm. When she died suddenly three years ago, her share immediately transferred to Dave—in a grand sum of ten million dollars.

But no one knew. And Dave made sure no one needed to know.

Entering his home, Dave yawned as the smell of meatloaf tickled his senses. Way too loud ska music didn't flirt with his ears, however. He walked towards the kitchen and found Meredith dancing away to Sublime. He turned off the music so his daughter would know that someone was in the house. "Good evening, Princess."

Meredith turned around and gave her dad a hug. "Daddy! How was court?"

"Long." He replied.

"Good!" She smiled. "I made dinner and nope, I didn't burn it this time!"

Dave grinned. "Thank you."

"Not a problem." Meredith took off Dave's jacket and poured him a glass of wine. "Now you just relax. Dinner is just about ready."

For the past three years, Meredith took care of her dad. While Dave encouraged her to go out and get new hobbies, she was more focused on seeing her dad remain sane. She also wanted to make sure that he was concentrating on court and not some flimsy bimbo.

"Wanna go see a movie with me and Janna tonight? We're going to see Snakes on a Plane."

"I'll pass, but thanks, Baby." Dave said as he ate. "I have documents to prepare for on Monday."

Meredith dropped her fork. "You need a life, Dad."

"And you need to hurry up and finish dinner so you won't be late for your movie." He changed the subject.

"Alright, alright." She got up and headed towards the kitchen. "But I'm just letting you know the offer is still up."

"Thanks, Princess." Dave smiled.

"Welcome, Daddy." She smiled back. She then began clearing her throat. "Um…um…um.."

Dave knew what Meredith was getting at. It was the universal sign of 'I want money now.' "How much do you need?"

"Ten." She smiled.

Dave rolled his eyes. He knew the drill. Meredith will start out with the lowest figure possible and before he knew it, Dave was forking over a hundred dollars. "Here's sixty. And please start spending your allowance."

"Why? Spending your money is more fun." Meredith smiled before she heard a honking from the driveway. She gave Dave a quick kiss. "Bye Daddy!"

"Bye!" Dave waved as she headed out the door.

Finishing up his dinner and cleaning the dishes, Dave headed to his home office to look over some more documentation. The next people on the list were Lisa's former coworkers from Purrrfection. The girls weren't on the best of terms with Lisa but they were crucial in determining her state of mind when she was with Randy. _This should be interesting. _

His thoughts were interrupted by a surprise phone call. He recognized the number on the caller ID and didn't think twice to answer it. "Hello?"

"Good, you're home. I was hoping to catch you." The voice said.

"What can I do for you?"

"I want to give you kudos on a terrific cross-examination today. Very impressive work."

"Thank you. Was there anything else?"

"No, that was all. I'll be in touch." The line went dead.

Dave stared at his phone before hanging it up. He tried to go back to his paperwork but his thoughts were totally out of focused.

Lisa had various supporters and many of them offered to pay her legal defense bills. That part, Dave didn't care one way or another as long as he got paid.

What disturbed him was the thought Vince McMahon was paying for her entire defense. And why Lisa could not have any knowledge of it.


	11. God Help Us All

_Author's Note: I bet some of you were wondering when the hell I was going to update this story. Honestly, I wasn't sure myself. But now I know where I want this story to proceed, here's finally an update. Enjoy! _

_--------------------------------_

The purple light shined on the club's center stage. Nelly's "Na-Na-Na" blasted through the speakers. Anxious patrons had their dollar bills folded and ready to spend. All they needed to see was her appearance.

When she finally did appear, Lisa always stole the show. Wearing a cop uniform that left very little to imagination, Lisa didn't disappoint. She focused on her regular customers, spreading her legs in front of them so her core was inches away from their faces. The way her booty would bounce to the beat always made her a club favorite. She loved to dance and certainly spent most of her free hours naked, so why not get paid to do both?

She was flexible and often did the splits and bent over backwards. She kept up her appearance with monthly Brazilian waxes. Right before she met Randy, Lisa just had her breasts done—again. She was the younger Latina version of Pamela Anderson and she definitely used the comparison more than a few times in her favor.

While some strippers often went through the motions when they performed, it was clear that Lisa had immense pleasure. It was the ass-backwards way of having the power with her sexuality. All she had to do was spread her legs and the men would give her money, offer to buy her furniture, cars, jewelry, and vacations.

And how she much she wished she had that life again.

Lisa steadily flipped through channels of her cable box, looking for something to watch. While she was not on house arrest, she definitely did not have the freedom to do anything. Whatever she needed, it was brought back to her condo. At first, she loved having everything catered to her. All she had to do was to flip through the magazine books or watch enough hours of QVC and voila! Her new set of knives were in the mail.

The other set of knives she had—well, got dirty and unusable.

Then it got to the point that she felt trapped in her own home. Family members took the children out to the park and shopping. Lisa could not step ten feet outside her home without a dozen flashbulbs going off. _Odio es en casa, Lisa thought, I hate being at home._

Luckily, for Lisa, she had two small children to keep her busy. With her children being just toddlers, it was a guarantee that she was constantly cleaning the condo. She and Randy were married for a year before she became pregnant with their twins, Roberto and Jennifer. Lisa wanted to have the children to be proud of their heritage and suggested Hispanic names such as Maria for a girl and Luis for a boy. Randy, however, thought the names were too ethnic for his taste. Instead, he complied with Roberto for his son. He figured he could be referred as Bobby.

"Jenni, put that down!"

"Bobby, hurry up and get dressed!"

Lisa was officially exhausted. Her day usually started at six in the morning and didn't end until at least eight at night. It was moments like this that she thought serving a life sentence wasn't that bad. _Maybe jail could be a small vacation for me, she quipped. _Lisa's day became a little brighter when she received a surprise visit from her attorney.

"Having fun with the kids, Lisa?" Dave smiled as he entered the condo.

"I'm barely surviving." She said.

Dave dropped his briefcase and picked up Jennifer. She was a three year old with long brown hair and chubby cheeks. There was no mistake that she was a replica of her late father with her piercing blue eyes. "Hi Jenni!"

"Hi Dave!" She giggled. "Como estas, Señor?"

"Bien. Y tu, Señorita?" Dave smiled.

"Muy bien!" Jenni giggled.

"Muy bien!" Dave smiled. "Can you play with your brother while I talk to your mommy?"

"Okay!" Jenni got off Dave's lap. "Bye Mommy!" She said to Lisa.

"Bye, baby." She smiled as she watched Jenni join her brother in the family room. "I don't think I've ever seen you smile before." Lisa commented.

"I try not to do it often." He replied.

"Why? It's a beautiful smile."

"Thank you." Dave felt the attorney-client privilege was a little too close for comfort. "Let's talk about your case now."

"We don't really know each other," She began. "I don't know what you like to do or what tickles your fancy."

"What tickles my fancy is making sure you can tuck your children into bed after the trial." Dave cut her off. "After the trial, we'll get to know each other, but now we need to focus."

"You're no fun." Lisa pouted.

"No," Dave took out documents from his briefcase. "I'm an attorney."

--------------------------------------

After several hours of going over the next phase of Lisa's trial with her, Dave felt confident that he accomplished enough for the day. "Alright, I think we're done for the day. If there are any developments, I'll let you know." He began to pack up his suitcase.

Lisa got up from the dining room table and straightened her blouse. "I need you to be real with me, Dave. What are my chances of getting off?"

Dave sighed. He would be lying if he thought Lisa had a better chance of winning the lottery. "I'm doing the best I can to get you exonerated."

"That doesn't sound like you believe me." She replied. "Do you think I intentionally killed him? He constantly threatened me! I had to!"

"Lisa, if I believed you intentionally killed Randy, I would not be representing you right now." He packed the rest of his documents and headed towards the front door. "But yes, you did murder your husband, the father of your children. There's no argument about that. We just have to pray that the jury believes you. I'll be in touch, Ms. Hernandez."

Lisa stood at her front door as she watched Dave leave. His words did make her feel a little better but she was still worried. She would be lying if she didn't think the odds were stacked against her. She confessed to the killing and her DNA and fingerprints were all over the crime scene. It seemed everyday something about her past was being used against her and people she thought she could trust were selling her out by granting paid interviews.

Lisa was so knee deep in trouble, she wasn't sure if God could help her now. _Ah Dios, por favor me salva_.


	12. Not a Good Look

John Layfield stepped outside of his limo and greeted the media with a blazing white smile. It wasn't a particularly beautiful day in Los Angeles, in fact, it was cold with sprinkling rain. But to John Layfield, it was a perfect day. It was the day he has been looking forward to since the start of the trial a week ago.

It was his day to hang Lisa out to dry.

There were several dancers at Purrrfection for John to interview but he only chose the ones that could further damage Lisa's reputation. Towards Lisa's dramatic and abrupt end at Purrfection, she rubbed many people the wrong way. It was the perfect opportunity for John to pound on that very fact.

First on the stand was Maria. She was a petite brunette with big eyes and a doll-like face to match. She spoke softly, her voice between a child's and a pubescent teenage girl. It was no wonder why she was nicknamed, "Princess." Just one look at Maria and one felt like they needed to protect her.

"Is it true that the deceased often brought lunch and dinner for the dancers at Purrrfection?" John asked.

"Yes." Maria nodded. "He always bought us food."

"It doesn't sound like someone who often bought food would be controlling his wife's eating habits, does it?" John asked.

"Objection, your honor." Dave stated. "Counsel is leading the witness."

"Sustained." Judge Garcia stated.

John smiled at the judge. "Let me rephrase that, your Honor. "When the defendant was dating the deceased, how did the defendant change?"

"She dyed her blonde and lost a lot of weight. She said that Randy wanted her to be a size 6." Maria said as she took the stand. "She was constantly counting calories."

"But he never called her a whore or other bad names?" John asked. "He never said she was a fat pig or that she was getting too big?"

Maria shook her head. "Not that I'm aware of, no."

John smiled. _This is way too easy for me. _"Thank you."

-----------------------------------------

"She had to be at home at a specific time." Stacy explained when she took the stand. She was a petite blonde and looked exactly like a Barbie Doll if one was held up right next to her. She was nicknamed "Legs" because her legs were 53 inches long, not to mention Stacy had the flexibility that rivaled a contortionist. "When she wasn't, Randy berated her."

"Did the deceased berate the defendant in front of everyone?"

"No." Stacy said.

"So how do you know the deceased berated the defendant if you were not present?"

"I didn't say that." Stacy shook her head.

"Yes, you did, Ms. Keibler. Should I have the court reporter read it back to you?"

"Objection, your Honor." Dave got up and buttoned his suit jacket. "Counsel is harassing the witness."

"I'm not harassing the witness. I'm merely correcting her lie." John stated.

"Can I see counsel at my bench?" Judge Garcia motioned for both men. Once present, she spoke to both men. "I do not know what is going on right now but I do know it is going to end very soon. Now, I'm going to let the court reporter read back what the witness stated and I'm going to let Mr. Batista to explain his objection. Consider this a final warning to both of you. One more interruption and I will hold you both in contempt."

Both men nodded. "Yes, your Honor." Dave walked back to his table and waited for John to finish.

John motioned for the court reporter. "Could the court read the last minutes of the questioning?"

The court reporter stood up and began reading. "Question: did the deceased berate her in front of everyone? Answer: No. Question: So how do you know the deceased berated the defendant if you were not present? Answer: I didn't say that."

Judge Garcia looked over at Dave. "Your turn, counsel."

"Your Honor, just because the deceased didn't berate the defendant in front of many people does not imply he didn't do it privately when the witness was nearby." Dave stated.

"Objection sustained." The judge ruled.

John smiled. _Good one, Batista. Good one. _"Were you ever present when the deceased berate the defendant?"

"No." Stacy shook her head.

"Did the defendant ever say the deceased abused her?" John asked.

Stacy thought hard about Lisa and Randy's relationship. It was an open secret that Randy was not Prince Charming by any means yet whenever he visited Lisa at the club, he was nothing but respectful to her and the other girls. While she didn't care for Randy being manipulative towards Lisa, Stacy never heard of Randy striking her or even threatening to do so. "Not that I can recall." Stacy said.

John smiled as he thought to himself. _People of California, two. Lisa Hernandez, zero._

_------------------------------------------------_

"Was the defendant hard to get along with?" John asked the next witness.

Candice Michelle shook her head. She was a Puerto Rican woman with high cheekbones and svelte figure. It was no surprise that just like with her other co-workers, the courtroom was packed with men when she took the stand. Her stage name was Candy and many thought it was because of her real name. However, Lisa gave her name to her because she wore bright wigs when she performed and the colors resembled cotton candy. "She was one of the girls. We all got along with everyone."

"So you never had any problems with the defendant?" He asked.

"Well, we all had our monthly bitch moments." Candice said, garnering some chuckle from the galley. "But everything was fine."

"Describe the deceased." John asked. "Was he a nice guy?"

"Well, he was nice to us but he was still an asshole to Lisa." Candice said.

"Move to strike the last comment, Your Honor." John motioned.

"Motion objected." Judge Garcia ruled.

The judge's sudden ruling caught John by surprise. "Your Honor…"

"You asked the witness if the deceased was a nice guy and she gave you an answer. Motion overruled, counsel. I suggest you proceed."

John thought carefully about his next question. "Do you recall a time that the defendant said the deceased was abusing her?"

"No."

"Did the defendant show up with mysterious bruises or marks she couldn't explain?"

Candice shook her head again. "No, not that I'm aware of."

John smiled. "No more questions at this time, your Honor."

Dave sighed as he realized what just happened. John proved to the court that while Randy was a manipulative and controlling bastard of a husband, he wasn't a wife-beater. And with the testimony from Lisa's former co-workers, any sudden change in Lisa's appearance was she wanted to make the change, not because Randy forced her.

Dave took another sigh and regrouped himself for plan B. If he could not prove Lisa was in a serious threat from Randy, his case was blown to hell.


	13. Things Just Became Weird

Dave prepared himself for a long night at his office. It was ten o'clock at night and Dave realized he had a lot more work ahead of him. He wasn't surprised that John turned the tables; if anything, Dave expected it. Now it was the fun time trying to figure out how he was going to get the jury to be sympathetic towards Lisa again. _There's gotta be a way. _

Dave's office phone rang. He checked the caller ID and recognized it was Meredith calling him. "I heard what happened in court today, Daddy." She somberly said.

"Yeah, it wasn't fun." Dave dropped his pen and leaned back into his chair.

"Are you going to plea bargain?"

"Hell no!" Dave dismissed any notion of getting anything but a not guilty verdict. He did not believe that Lisa was guilty but Dave sure did not believe in giving John Layfield a slight victory. "We're fighting to the death on this one."

"Nice choice of words there, Dad." Meredith replied.

Dave glanced at his office clock. "Shouldn't you be in bed already?"

"Yeah, I should but I wanted to call to say good-night to my dearest sweet Daddy."

Dave shook his head and rolled his eyes. _This girl is going to make me bankrupt before I'm 40. _"How much do you need?"

"About twenty and that'll last me throughout the week!"

Dave shook his head and laughed. "I doubt it'll last you throughout the week but there should be some money in the freezer."

"The freezer?" Meredith looked everywhere for Dave's money and never thought about the freezer. When she opened it, she found a crisp twenty-dollar bill under the ice tray. "Why did you put money here?"

"Because I knew it would be the last place you'll look for it." Dave smiled as he heard a knock on his door. "Come in." He yelled at the door.

The door opened slowly and a commanding presence stepped out from behind. The man calmly sat down in front of Dave, awaiting his attention. His crisp, black Armani suit shined in the dimmed room. The silver hair on the man's head was equally shiny, coiffed to perfect.

And then there was the look of pure smugness on the man's face. A look that was constantly etched across the man's lips. His eyes read Dave's actions, studying them for possible future use.

Dave stared at the man ahead of him. The only things that intimidated Dave before was passing the bar and Meredith's birth—some 16 years ago. "Meredith, baby. I'm going have to call you back. I just received some company."

"Okay, Daddy. Talk to you later!" She hung up the phone.

Vince smiled at Dave. "You didn't have to hang up on my account, David."

"She'll be fine." Dave sat up. "Do you want something to drink?"

"Jack, if you have it." Vince replied. "I know how you like to watch your girlish figure with the Malibu and soda concoction."

Dave smiled as he got up and poured a glass for Vince. In law school, Dave admired Vince greatly and aspired to be just like him. Not only was Vince the most powerful attorney in all of California, but he was considered to be top lawyer in all the United States. He had the prestige, the celebrity, and the undeniable win-lose ration that set the standard for all attorneys. Above all, Vince had the power and used his connections often to his advantage. And it wasn't always in the positive sense.

So naturally, when Vince hired him to represent Lisa, Dave couldn't shake the feeling that he just fixed his own noose. It was an odd feeling of both admiration and intimidation. "What do I owe this visit?"

"I was curious to see what your next plan of attack was?" Vince asked.

Dave smirked to himself. _Oh, how did I know that question was coming?_ He walked over to Vince and handed his glass of Jack Daniels. He then sat across from him and sipped on his Malibu and club soda. "I'm calling up domestic violence experts to testify on a woman's state of mind when she's battered."

"And what else?" Vince asked.

"And psychologists to testify that domestic violence don't just include physical battery but emotional and mental battery as well, since Layfield laid the groundwork for me." Dave said.

"Very good, very good." Vince took another sip of his Jack and sighed. "Very good."

Dave hesitated before asking his next question but the worse thing Vince could do was to tell Dave it was none of his damn business. "Why are you so interested in protecting someone who killed your top employee?" Dave questioned. "It makes no logical sense."

Vince looked up at Dave. "Does it matter?"

"Just curious." Dave replied.

"Truth to be told, it's none of your damn business…"

Dave smirked. _I figured as much…_

"But since you asked, it makes sense, David." Vince took another sip of the liquor. "It makes perfect sense."

Dave shook his head. "To who? To you, yes. To me and everyone else? I don't think so."

Vince got up and poured himself a glass of red wine. He held the wine glass to his nose and swirled the wine, breathing in the aroma. He walked around Dave's office and began to tell a story. "When my first wife and I moved to Los Angeles, I was a struggling attorney. I had student loans that were sky-high and we both were trying to make ends meet. And you know how all attorneys start out…no money, lousy cases, overworked hours. I clawed and fought my way to the top and became partner in ten years—something completely unheard of back then…"

Dave let out a soft sigh. He wasn't sure where Vince was going with his soliloquy but he wasn't about to interrupt him. "Yes?"

Vince admired the view of the city lights before he proceeded with the conversation. "…my practice picked up momentum and we started to make more money. I could afford my wife whatever she wanted—the best and the finest. I also hired a maid to help out my wife.

"Our maid was fantastic. Rose is her name." A proud smile grew on Vince's face as he walked over to another office window. "She's been with me for over 30 years. I helped her get citizenship and enroll her into English classes. I did a lot for her."

Dave shook his head. "Vince, I'm not sure if I follow you."

"My former wife was a whore and I knew it." He cut Dave off. "The times I was in court defending various drug dealers and murderers, she was at home banging the pool boy. I wouldn't have known any of it until Rose confided in me. She was my comfort and my calming grace." His voice suddenly quieted. "I would always appreciate what she did for me and I made a vow that I would always take care of her."

Vince's sudden change in his tone gave way to what he was about to say next and Dave knew it. Everything began to make sense. There was no accident that Vince was defending Lisa.

Dave felt he needed to catch his breath. "I only have one question."

"Yes?"

"Do you ever plan on telling Lisa you're her father?"


	14. A Complete 180

Vince suddenly pulled out his wallet and admired a picture of Lisa when she was younger. He had several pictures of her but this particular one was his favorite. It was her high school senior picture. There was innocence about her, reminiscent of Rose. Over the years, Vince monitored his daughter through progress reports, school plays and the like. Little did Lisa know that Vince was always watching her and he knew everything she was doing. Whether it was Vince showing up inconspicuously at a track meet or hiring a private investigator to follow Lisa on a date, Vince always knew what his only child was doing.

"She doesn't need to know." Vince replied.

Dave shook his head. "How long do you to plan to keep this from her?"

"Until my will is read." Vince replied. "There's a trust fund saved up for her and my grandbabies. They'll be well taken care of if something happens to me or Rose." Dave watched Vince finish his wine glass and smiled. "Delicious. May I have another?"

"Help yourself." Dave motioned towards the bar.

Vince walked over and poured another glass of wine. He then started his walk around the office windows again. "When Rose informed me that she was expecting, we both made the decision to let her raise Lisa alone. We both wanted to give Lisa the same lifestyle as other kids in her neighborhood and not be singled out because she had a rich White father. We decided she should have Rose's last name on the birth certificate." Vince smiled again at the photo. "The feeling of holding something you created out of love is incomparable.

"I volunteered child support; Rose didn't ask for it. Whenever Lisa wanted something new and it was within reason, I provided the monetary support so she could get it. She was put in etiquette and cooking classes. Rose once told me that she didn't know how Lisa managed to pass cooking because she could barely cut a celery stick." Vince laughed. "But it worked out. Rose was taking classes to become a CNA so she could keep up the facade of wanting to better herself." He smiled. "I also paid for those classes."

"I upgraded Rose's home and bought her a new sedan—a Honda Accord. I bought Lisa a used Civic when she turned 16. Rose made up some story that she was saving for Lisa's car for a while so there weren't any questions when the car was in the driveway waiting for her when she got home from school."

"But she had to have asked about her father at some point?" Dave questioned.

"She did and often. Finally one day, Rose made up a story regarding an old boyfriend who took off one night and never came back. Lisa's questioning stopped. She focused on school and bettering herself. She wanted to become a doctor but she couldn't stand to watch ER because of all the blood and guts. Believe it or not, she actually wanted to be a lawyer." Vince gave a smirk. "How about that?"

"How about that." Dave replied. "So you knew about Trish, then?"

"I knew everything about my daughter, David." Vince replied.

"You approved of Trish?"

"She's a beautiful, young woman. Why wouldn't I approve?" Vince coyly said. "We all know how much Ms. Stratigias got along with Mr. Orton. She once told Rose that if she could, she would kill him."

_Really? Surprise, surprise. _Dave was still trying to process the new information. Questions were flooding his mind and he couldn't stop the steady stream. "What about Rose?"

Vince took another sip and looked back at Dave. "Getting personal, aren't we?"

"You've been sharing your Shakespearean story up to this point, why stop now?" Dave asked.

"Rose still cleans my home and I pay her very well." Vince grinned.

Dave closed his eyes for a brief moment. There was no question what Vince was referring to by his last statement. _They're still fucking. _ "So when Lisa showed up with Randy at the gala, you knew all along?" Dave asked.

Vince took a sip of his wine and smiled. "Who do you think recommended the strip bar to Mr. Orton in the first place?"

"Your daughter was a stripper and you didn't have a problem with it?"

"Of course, I did. Would you want to see Meredith grinding her ass against a pole in front of strangers who just want a taste?" Vince sharply replied. "And Rose had a problem with it, too. But Lisa is headstrong, a quality she inherited from me. Nothing was going to stop her."

"Nothing except Randy Orton." Dave finished.

Vince took another sip of his wine and looked up at the ceiling for a brief moment. "Mr. Orton was an intelligent man and he had a hunger for power I haven't seen in years. He wanted the best, the finest and did whatever he could to get it. He stepped on a lot of toes and made enemies in the process, but he was great kid—from a professional standpoint."

"Jonathan Coachman didn't care for him?" Dave questioned.

"Jonathan Coachman doesn't care for anyone but himself." Vince quickly replied. "But he had it out for Randy and made it known to whoever wanted to listen."

"Did Rose like Randy?"

"She hated him the moment he stepped foot inside her house." Vince chuckled. "But what could she say? Lisa was happy and he was doing nice things for her."

"It had to have bothered you knowing that she was making drastic lifestyle changes to suit him?"

Vince turned his head. His body became stiff and his face turned into a frosty stare. "Oh, it bothered me. It really bothered me." He set his wine glass down and stood up. "I'm going to be crystal clear. You're going to do whatever possible to make sure my baby girl is exonerated. I don't care if you have to fly in expert testimony from overseas, Lisa is going to be found innocent of all charges."

"You have my word, Vince."

"Good to know." Vince patted Dave on the shoulder. "We'll be in touch." He then left the office.

Dave was not much of a drinker. He only drank socially and it was very little at best. He quickly downed his drink, only to chase it with a shot of Pátron. He learned a lot of information—too much information—but that was not his concern.

"_Oh, it bothered me. It really bothered me."_

Vince's haunting words stuck with Dave and he couldn't figured out why. Granted, it was a father's intuition to see their only child happy, but that was not it. It was something else. There was something hidden underneath the exterior.

"_I don't care if you have to fly in expert testimony from overseas, Lisa is going to be found innocent of all charges."_

Dave paused for a moment as Vince's last words echoed through his mind. _Innocent. Innocent. Innocent. _ In the legal world, being found innocent means a person did not commit the crime they were charged. Being found not guilty meant the charges against the person were not proven beyond a reasonable doubt. "Innocent…" Dave mumbled. "He said innocent."

"_Rose once told me that she didn't know how Lisa managed to pass cooking because she could barely cut a celery stick…"_

"_She wanted to become a doctor but she couldn't stand to watch ER because of all the blood and guts…"_

Dave shook his head to relieve his thoughts. He sank into his office chair and rubbed his forehead. His case did a complete 180 and he struggling to stay sane. He knew what he heard and Vince did not stutter.

Dave let out a deep sigh as he contemplated his next course of action. Lisa Hernandez did not kill Randy Orton. Someone close to her did and she was protecting that person. _But why in the hell would she risk everything to do that?_

Now the fun began.

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_Author's Note: I'm on a roll with these updates, huh? Well, I'm anticipating the stream of WTF? reviews. Who killed Randy? Well, I can't tell you now because it wouldn't be fun. But for all the detectives out there (Torque and shannygoat), I just gave away the answer in this chapter. _

_Vera._


	15. Things Aren't Always What They Seem

Chess is a game that requires astute attention. It's about strategy and challenge of the mind. The object of the game is to checkmate one's opponent, meaning have the king under attack and no way to remove the king. Dave often used chess to help figure out his next form of attack. It helped get a fresh perspective of what was happening. He also used chess to beat his best friend and partner-in-crime, Paul Levesque.

The two men graduated from the same law school but worked at different firms. Garnering enough wins and reputations of their own, Dave and Paul formed their own practice. While Dave was the limelight of the firm, Paul stayed behind the scenes and did pro bono work.

Whenever there was a case that was hard to break down, Paul and Dave played chess. It helped them look at all possible theories and methods of attack. "So you're sure she didn't do it?" Paul asked as he studied the board.

"No, I'm not. But it doesn't make sense for Lisa to commit such a heinous act." Dave replied. "If what I'm told has a little bit of truth left, Lisa was a very strong-willed person. She wouldn't take shit from anyone."

"So why do you think she stayed? There had to be another reason." Paul wondered.

Dave shrugged and shook his head. "Maybe she was really in love with him. I don't know. Too many questions and not enough answers."

"So what are you going to do, man?" Paul asked.

"I don't know. I'm not even sure if what I'm thinking is one-hundred percent accurate. I could be totally off the mark about all of this." Dave shook his head.

Paul smirked. He has known Dave for the past 10 years and he knew Dave never doubted himself, even during the times he was completely wrong. "Serious?"

Dave smiled. Paul knew him too well. "Of course not."

"Well, if what you're saying has an inkling of truth, which I think it does, you have to start with the least important player and work your way up." Paul said as he referenced to the chess game in progress. "If Vince is the king and Rose is the queen, you need a pawn."

"And how do you figure I'll do that?" He asked.

Paul moved his rook and smiled. "That, my friend, is for you to figure out."

"Easier said than done, Paul."

"It always is." Paul smiled. "It always is."

Dave contemplated his next action. "If Vince is the king, Rose is the queen, and Lisa is the rook. Wouldn't that make Randy the pawn?"

"It would except that is too easy. If Randy knew he was getting played, he would've stayed clear of Lisa." Paul added.

"But if he had no knowledge of what was happening, he would make the perfect pawn?"

"That's true and Vince already used him to meet Lisa."

Dave somberly rubbed his face. "This is a fuckin' nightmare."

"It's not fun, no." Paul added. "But it is quite the challenge."

Dave leaned back in his chair. "If I was the most powerful attorney in all of Los Angeles, and I knew someone other than my daughter killed my most prominent attorney, what would I do to cover that up?"

Dave quickly sat up as Paul looked at him. Both men smiled as they drew the same conclusion. "Everything."

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David Batista was angry, pissed off, even. He was played and there wasn't a doubt in his mind who was the mastermind. To prove Lisa was not only innocent but she was covering up the murder required acute attention to detail. He would need to listen more carefully, look at evidence more clearly. There was positively no room for error—which made his plan more difficult to enact. However, he did find a silver lining.

"_If Vince is the king and Rose is the queen, you need a pawn." _

Dave knew Lisa well. He wasn't her best friend and she didn't confide all of her dark secrets to him. But Dave knew her well enough that if Lisa trusted anyone in the world with her life, it was one person.

Trish Stratigias.

_It's time to pay Ms. Trish a visit. _

_--------------------------------------------_

Trish Stratigias lived a demure life. She was quiet and kind, always smiling to her neighbors and strangers. Her apartment was a reflection of her personality—the basics. A simple entertainment center flanked by various scented candles. An off-color old sofa that was torn and in dire need of being tossed away. Various pictures of the sunset decorated the walls with matching leis. Her bathroom had dolphin decorations, signifying her love of the animal. Her bedroom, she labeled it "The Princess Headquarters."

Since the case broke, Trish has stayed inside a lot. She still performed with her Improv group, but did not bother to socialize too much outside the club. The paparazzi and media were stalking her day and night. She kept her blinds closed and barely left to pick up her mail.

So when Dave called her for a visit, she was surprised. Still, she was on her guard and knew any visit would be strictly related to the case. She made baked chicken with side vegetables. Not much of a drinker, Trish offered iced tea as refreshment. She put on her best pair of blue jeans and a mock turtleneck sweater. She completed her look with high heels and some perfume.

_Why does he want to meet with me?_

"Mr. Batista." Trish greeted as she opened her door. "Thank you for coming over."

"Thank you for letting me on such a short notice." He replied as he entered inside her apartment.

"Is that a personal or business visit?" She asked.

Dave admired Trish's outfit. He would be lying if he didn't think she wasn't one of the most beautiful women he had seen in a while. "Both."

Trish blushed a little. She always thought Dave was attractive but she never pursued him because of Lisa. _But Lisa isn't here right now, now is she? _ "What can I do for you, Mr. Batista?" She asked.

---------------------------------------------------------

After dinner, Dave and Trish talked casually over their lives and other topics of conversation. They shared an intimate bonding and opened up to each other. Still, Trish was on her guard. She appreciated Dave coming over for dinner, but that was not the real reason he was there.

"So why are you really here?" Trish asked. "I know you're not here because you're a nice attorney."

"I'm going to need your assistance." Dave began. "I'm going to need to know as much about Lisa and Randy's relationship as possible."

Trish shook her head in confusion. "I told everything in court." She said.

"I need more." Dave said. "You know things that others don't."

"I love her, David." Trish said. "I'm going to protect her."

"But she chose Randy over you, Trish. You can play like you don't care but we all know that bothered you." He stated. "You never got over Lisa."

"And I don't plan to." She sharply replied as she got up. "Did you want more to drink?"

"I'm good." Dave replied.

Trish spoke from the kitchen as she opened her refrigerator door. "What do you want to know? He was a manipulative asshole." She closed her refrigerator door and stood up, just to find Dave right behind her.

"How did you feel about him?" He asked.

Trish felt flushed. She knew it wasn't her mock turtleneck that was making her hot and bothered. "I hated him." She whispered. She then pressed her body against his. "Was this really a business visit? Or was this personal as well?"

Dave rubbed Trish's back. He went underneath her shirt and unhooked her bra. "I always take pleasure in my business affairs, Ms. Stratigias. I thought you were gay."

"I am." She said. "I'm also straight." Trish pulled off her top and tossed her bra to the side. She began to plant soft kisses all over Dave's face, stopping at his lips. "Is it true that you're the best attorney out there?" She said, implying to his sexual skills.

Dave scooped Trish up and carried her to her bedroom. "I guess we'll have to find out."

--------------------------------------

The next morning, Dave woke up to the bright sunlight. He looked down at his right side and saw a sleeping Trish cuddled on his chest. He carefully brushed her blonde locks out of her face and kissed her forehead. He then got out of bed and walked towards the living room.

His cell phone was beeping, indicating that he had a voicemail. He rushed over to his briefcase and saw that Meredith called him. He quickly placed a call to his only daughter. "I'm fine, Mary." He said.

"Oh, I figured as such." Meredith replied. "I certainly hoped you used protection because I don't want to share your wealth with another brat."

Dave felt disturbed to remotely talk about his sex life with his daughter. "I did. Now how much money do you need?"

"Fifty. There's a sale at Bloomingdale's."

"You only need fifty dollars for a sale at Bloomingdale's?" Dave questioned.

"Well, fifty plus 500." Meredith begged.

"You'll get fifty, but the 500 is coming out of your allowance." He stated. "I'll be home later."

"Daddy?"

"Yes?"

"I mean it. No other brats." She hung up the phone.

Dave flipped up his cell phone. "I love my daughter, I love my daughter…."

"Sounds like it." Trish said from a nearby corner.

Dave turned around and saw Trish wrapped in a bed sheet. She had the bed-head and a big smile, evidence of the prior night. "Good morning."

"Good morning." She walked over to him. "I'm surprised that you're still here. I thought you would've taken off by now."

"I wanted to stay and make breakfast." He said. "Since you were so courteous in being a gracious host last night, I wanted to thank you."

"I thought you did that all night." She smiled.

Dave smiled. "You liked that?"

"I thought my screams indicated that."

Dave felt himself getting hard just thinking of Trish's screams. She challenged him and went toe-to-toe with him. Whether it was against the wall, on the floor, or the bed, Trish and Dave brought out the best of each other—three times. "I loved your screams." He coyly replied. "How about this? You're going to need your energy so let me make breakfast and we'll continue."

"Deal." She softly kissed his lips and walked back to her bedroom.

Dave was no expert in the kitchen but he knew the basics to get by. If he messed up bad, it was just an excuse to go get take-out. As Dave was making breakfast, he looked over at Trish's knife set. The knives were nice, and appeared to be of the highest quality. _Good taste. _ He then went back to scrambling his eggs.

Dave was putting the plates together when he suddenly stopped. He turned around and looked at the knives again. One was missing. His curiosity got the best of him and he pulled out the other knives. His instincts were dead-on.

"_I love her, David." Trish said. "I'm going to protect her." _

One of the missing knives was the murder weapon. And Dave suddenly lost his appetite.


	16. She's Not That Innocent

_Now I can do this very carefully or I can completely fuck this up. _Dave was contemplating exactly how he was going to ask Trish about the missing knife. As she sat across from him and ate breakfast, Dave couldn't help but wonder how proud his law professors would be of him at that moment. Only Dave would sleep with a suspect and still have breakfast with her the next morning. _Genius. _But he was hoping he could pry some more details out of Trish without being too obvious that he suspected her. _And of course all of this happens after I fucked her. Wow, Batista, you know how to fuck yourself over when there's ass in front of you. _

"Are you okay, Dave?" Trish asked as she studied his face. "You seem preoccupied."

"I still need to ask more questions about your relationship with Lisa and her relationship with Randy."

"Well, go ahead. Now's a good time as ever."

_Wanna bet? _"So how did you feel about Randy and Lisa's relationship?"

"I hated it." Trish shrugged as she tore off a piece of toast and chewed it.

"Why?"

Trish stopped chewing. "Um, isn't it obvious?"

"Not really. He was a dick and a bigoted one at that. But he loved Lisa, didn't he?"

"Too little, too late." She mumbled.

Dave stopped sipping his cappuccino. "Come again?"

"Randy changed but it was too little, too late. Two months don't make up for five years of bullshit."

Dave glanced at Trish. "I'm sorry?"

"Lisa was going to leave his ass, taking the kids with her. Because she signed that ridiculous pre-nup, she would've received hardly anything other than a car and child support. But she didn't care about the money. She wanted to get away from him."

"So she was going to leave Randy at the time of his murder?"

"No, she was going to leave him before that." Trish shrugged. "He gave her plenty of reason, too."

"So she decided to stab him 56 times instead?" He asked.

"When Randy learned that Lisa was leaving him, something spurred inside him. Maybe it was the fact he couldn't control her anymore." She shrugged again. "Or the fact that he was never going to see the kids again."

Dave blankly stared at Trish. He felt he was in the middle of a bad dream and he couldn't wake up. "Wait a minute. Randy was going to go to counseling so Lisa wouldn't leave him?"

"Mmm hmm…" Trish rolled her eyes. "Some anger management shit."

Dave felt a sudden urge to throw himself in front of a moving car. _Beautiful how I'm just now finding out all of this shit. Just fucking beautiful. _"Really?"

"Yeah, it's pretty unbelievable." She then began to recount the details to Dave.

_Randy was exhausted. He was physically and mentally drained from preparing the world's most complex case. A man was accused of killing his wife's lover. The shooting wasn't debated, yet the reason behind it was. The man willfully admitted he killed his wife's lover—accidentally. He really meant to kill his wife instead. Straight out of Jerry Springer, he quipped._

_Instead of coming home to peace, Randy entered deserted island. Any sign of his wife and children were absent. No toys were strewn about. No soft giggle from the kids' bedrooms. His home was empty and all was left was a note. Short, sweet, and to the point. _

_Goodbye, motherfucker. _

_Randy immediately jumped into his BMW and headed straight to Trish's home. He wasn't a fool; he knew Lisa and Trish were still sleeping with each other. He also knew she would be the first place to go. Randy got out of his car. He furiously knocked on Lisa's door. He didn't care if he was going to be knocking all night. No one was going to take his family away from him. _

_Trish hastily opened the door. "What the fuck do you want?"_

"_Hey Lover," Randy smirked. "How's the wifey?"_

_Trish began to shut the door until Randy held his hand out. He slowly walked inside the apartment and looked around for his wife and children. A few moments later, Lisa appeared from the master bedroom. "Jenni and Bobby are at my mom's house. I suggest you leave." _

"_Lisa, we can talk about this." Randy stated. "Come home."_

"_I'm not going anywhere, asshole. Go home so you can treat me like shit even more? Fuck you, dickhead." _

"_Lisa, I know you're upset and all…"_

"_Motherfucker, do you think this is upset? Do you?" She yelled. "Do you think me leaving your fucking ass is just being upset?"_

"_Listen, all I need is five minutes, alright? Five fuckin' minutes. Can you at least give me that?" He asked._

_Lisa folded her arms. "Five minutes. But that's all." _

"_Can we at least talk outside?" He asked. _

_Lisa looked over to Trish. "I'll be right back." She then kissed her cheek and headed out the door. Trish shot Randy a dirty look as he continued to smirk at her. _

"_See you later, Stratigias." _

"_Fuck you." She retorted. _

"So what happened?" Dave asked.

Trish sighed as she stared at the wall ahead of her. "You wouldn't believe how many full-length movies I watched in those five minutes." She shook her head. "I waited up all night for her. That's when I knew—she was never going to leave Randy."

_Lisa returned to Trish's apartment to gather her belongings. She was greeted by Trish watching TV in the living room. Lisa slowly walked over to her girlfriend and sat beside her. "We're going to work things out."_

_Trish shook her head. She maintained her focus on the screen. "I'm glad it took sucking his dick to reach that conclusion." _

_Lisa shook her head. I had that one coming, she thought. "Well, at least you can't say I didn't tell you." She got up and straightened out her jeans. She made one last attempt to save her relationship. "I never meant for this to happen, Trish."_

_Trish turned off the TV. She then faced her ex-girlfriend. "No, you did."_

"That's the story." Trish shrugged.

"Is it?" Dave questioned.

Trish shook her head. "I'm not following you."

"If what you're telling me is true, Lisa had no reason to kill Randy if he was willing to change."

"That's right. "

"But if what you're telling me is true, you also had every reason to kill Randy for taking your girlfriend."

Trish nodded. "That's right."

Dave glanced at Trish. The story made Dave believe more than ever Lisa didn't kill Randy. But it also made him wonder what Trish's role was. "You were pissed off at Randy because he stole your girlfriend."

"You wouldn't be?" She countered.

Dave sat back in his chair. "Hypothetically speaking, if what you told me is true." He stated. "You killed Randy out of hatred and Lisa is covering for you."

Trish slightly cocked her head to the left. "Hypothetically speaking, yes." She then raised the warm cup of cappuccino to her lips. She took a sip and licked the froth off her lips. "The knife didn't walk itself over there."


	17. Gaining Momentum

_Author's Note: Thank you to everyone for his or her continued interest. However, just like my other stories, this one requires a significant amount of research (more so than the other ones). I sincerely and continually apologize for the lack of updates on this story. I hope you're patient enough with me and I promise you it will be well worth the journey. _

_Oh, and this story is also going to wrap up pretty soon chapter-wise…nope, not a 40 chapter story, lol_

---------------------------------------

"You know, back in law school, I always thought you were the smartest." Paul said as he chewed his steak. "I'm glad you proved me wrong."

There was an unspoken rule amongst attorneys that you get close but not too close with your clients. Attorneys should know what their clients are going through and how they're feeling. A client's mental welfare was always first and foremost in handling a case. There was a fine line between getting involved and being in way too deep. Dave clearly jumped over the line with reckless abandon.

Dave shook his head as he prepared himself for the verbal lashing his best friend was about to give him. There wasn't anything he could say or do that could possibly excuse his conduct with Trish. Since Paul knew Dave so well, he knew Trish didn't initiate the sex sessions. "I don't know."

"The knife didn't walk itself over there…get the fuck outta here with that shit." Paul shook his head. "The bitches killed him—end story."

"I don't know about that." Dave took a bite of his filet mignon. "Hypothetically, Trish admitted to a murder. Yet, the thought Trish's so-called "confession" could be admissible in court was nothing short of laughable. I'm still not convinced."

"About what? Who stabbed him the tenth time? Who gave him stab wound number 48? Pardon the pun but it's cut and dry." Paul said in disbelief. "Man, that must've been some great pussy."

"She wanted him dead; Trish never denied that." Dave explained. "My question is did she hate him enough to actually do it?"

"He stole her girlfriend and she admitted that she would've killed him." Paul retorted. "I think that's enough hate for your ass. She was a scorned woman, Dave."

"She was a bitter, yes. But bitter enough to kill her lover's husband?" Dave questioned.

"Um, yeah?" Paul replied. "Look, everything is pointing to her, Dave. She hated Randy; he treated both her and Lisa like shit; he stole Lisa away from her. What more could there be?"

"So let me ask you this…" Dave began, "let's just say Trish did kill Randy. Let's just say she went ahead and cut him like a Pez dispenser. Why would Lisa protect her? What in the hell would she get out of it?"

Both men stared at blank space on the walls, trying to formulate their thoughts. They then back at each other once they reached their conclusions. The agonizing case of whodunit was becoming clearer by the second.

"Not a damn thing."

---------------------------

"The defense calls Dr. Shawn Michaels to the stand." Dave said to the court.

Dr. Shawn Michaels was a world-renowned expert witness. He was Harvard-educated psychologist who studied the effects on domestic violence and battered women syndrome. He was a relatively tall man with long sandy blonde hair, intense eyes and a discerning look that meant he put up with no bullshit from anyone.

After Shawn introduced himself and his credentials for the court, Dave did not waste time going into questioning. "Dr. Michaels, you have interviewed the defendant, Ms. Hernandez, correct?"

"That's correct."

"What was your observation of Ms. Hernandez?"

"Ms. Hernandez suffered was what we coined 'Battered Woman Syndrome,' also referred to as BWS. BWS happens in three stages. Stage one is the tension building stage, in which the victim suffers mental or minor physical abuse, like a slap. Stage two is the acute battering incident stage, where both perceived and real danger is maximal. Perceived means the victim has an idea that danger is going to happen, usually by more threats.

"The real danger, of course, is when the victim experiences the threats firsthand by abuse. Finally, stage three is the loving contrition stage. This is where the abuser sees the error of his ways and convinces the victim to stay with him. The abuser will send flowers, candy, offer to seek treatment and the like."

"During stage three, is the abuser sincere?" Dave asked.

"Yes, the abuser is always sincere." Shawn added. "However, it doesn't mean the abuser is going to follow through on his promises of not abusing anymore. It's a vicious cycle." He concluded.

"You spoken with the defendant, Ms. Hernandez, correct?"

"Yes, I have."

"From your talks with her, did she experience BWS?"

"Yes. Ms. Hernandez was in fear of Mr. Orton. He made her change her appearance, her diet, and had control of how she spent her waking hours. There was no question Ms. Hernandez was suffering from BWS."

"Thank you, Dr. Michaels. No further questions at this time, your Honor." Dave walked back to his seat.

John Layfield stood up. "Dr. Michaels, you said that in stage two, the victim can perceive danger happening, usually by more threats, is that correct?"

"Yes, that is correct."

"When you spoke to the defendant, did she ever tell you that the deceased threatened physical harm to her?"

Shawn shook his head and leaned forward into the microphone. "No, she didn't."

"Could you tell if there were any bruises or strange markings on her body?"

"No, I couldn't."

John Layfield smiled. _Batista, this is way too easy for me. _ "No further questions, your Honor."

"Thank you, Counsel." Judge Garcia then addressed Dave. "Mr. Batista, do you have any more witnesses?"

"No, Your Honor." He replied.

"Alright. Court is adjourned for today. It will reconvene tomorrow morning at nine o'clock." Judge Garcia slammed her gavel down.

Exiting the impending media circus, Dave and Lisa hurried to their awaiting limo. Once inside, Lisa did not hesitate to speak her feelings on what took place in court. "What in the hell happened in there?" Lisa demanded.

"Nothing happened, Lisa."

"Nothing happened? He practically railroaded me and you're telling me that nothing happened?" She yelled.

"Lower your voice and I'm only going to say that once." Dave warned. "Layfield is just doing his job."

"Well, you need to stop him!" Lisa exclaimed. "Dave, he's going to make me go to jail and he's going to take my babies away from me!"

Dave glanced at his client. With his theory still gathering in place, he was tempted to grill Lisa at the moment. But for now, he needed to play it safe and wait. "You're not going to jail and no one is going to take your children away from you, Lisa."

_At least not yet. _


	18. Dangerous Minds

"_You think I killed him, don't you?" Trish asked. _

_Dave kept stirring his coffee, knowing that there was nothing to stir. The subtle swirl of the coffee in the cup was a lovely distraction from what he was facing. If he was too honest with Trish, it was dangerous. If it was not honest enough, he was stupid. "Honestly? I'm not sure."_

"_I didn't." She admitted._

_Dave wasn't sure if Trish's confession was legit or real. For all he knew, Trish could be flat-out lying to him. Still, he showed no emotion. "Okay."_

"_I wasn't happy he was murdered, David."_

"_You weren't happy because you didn't do it?"_

_Trish looked up at him. "I wasn't happy because my girlfriend wasn't. I only wanted her to be happy." She frowned as she stirred her coffee. "I only wanted her to be happy."_

Dave replayed the conversation in his mind as he watched the blonde sleep across from him. They met at a late-night diner to talk more about her involvement with Lisa. Dave also wanted to find out what Trish knew about Randy's behavior towards her and Lisa. Yet, the meeting was very cordial. They both agreed that what happened at Trish's apartment was a one-time thing and it would never occur again.

They both knew it was a lie.

Upon leaving the restaurant, the two headed back to Dave's home, where they made love all night. Dave knew sleeping with Trish was dangerous, downright stupid. But there was something about Trish he could not resist. She was passionate, hungry, and giving; someone who needed to feel alive with each thrust, touch, and caress. He softly kissed her forehead and dozed back to sleep.

Just as Dave was enjoying his sleep, a late-night phone call awakened him. With his eyes still shut, he reached over on the nightstand and fumbled for his phone. "Hello?" Dave asked groggily.

"What in the hell happened in court today?" The voice demanded.

Dave rubbed his forehead. He briefly looked at his alarm clock. _Of course, he would call me at three o'clock in morning. Why wouldn't he? _"Everything is fine."

"It doesn't seem like everything is fine. Is that blonde bitch turning you out that you can't pay attention to your case?"

Dave quickly went from being slightly coherent to wide awake when he heard the last line. Whoever was on the phone studied his every move and that person knew Trish was spending the night. It didn't sound like Vince but he wasn't sure exactly who it was. Dave officially went from annoyed to slightly panicked in less than a minute. "Who is this?"

"Listen and listen good, Batista. If Lisa doesn't get off, Meredith and the blond bitch are taking a long nap on your watch." The line went dead.

Dave slowly put the phone back on the receiver. For a brief second, he swore he had an out-of-body experience. He immediately sat up in bed and placed his feet on the ground. He held his face in his hands. He officially was in over his head and waist deep in shit. An acquittal meant more than just Dave's reputation. _What in the hell did I get myself into? _

"Should I ask what that was about?" Trish asked.

Dave stared at a picture of Meredith and Elizabeth. He was only lucky Meredith was spending the night at a girlfriend's house. Dave was very tempted to go over and bring her home. "Nothing for you to be concerned with."

Trish sat up and leaned on her lover's back. "Are you in danger?"

_Slightly. _"I could be."

Trish wrapped her arms around Dave's waist. He grabbed her hands and held them tight. "Am I in danger?" She whispered.

Dave felt guilty. "We need to go back to bed, Trisha."

"They're out to get me, aren't they?"

"Who's out to get you?"

Trish hesitated. "All of them. They're all out to get me."

Dave did not have to ask whom Trish was referring to. Now it was a matter of seeing how many players were involved.

"_If Vince is the king and Rose is the queen, you need a pawn." _

That was when Dave knew. Randy Orton was not the pawn. Trish was.

_Not if I can help it._

------------------------------------------

"What are your plans for today?" Dave asked as Trish got dressed.

Trish pulled the sweater over her head. "I'm going home and then to work."

"Okay."

Trish sat next to Dave on the bed and wrapped her arms around him. "What are you doing today?"

"Heading back to the office to do some more paperwork." He replied, trying not to sound too insensitive.

"About last night, David…" Trish looked around in Dave's bedroom. "If you don't want to see me anymore, I can understand."

"Why would you think that?"

"I know we're both in way too deep." She looked down at her toes. "I just wanted to let you know that if you want to keep your distance from me, I understand."

Dave pulled Trish's gaze to his. "No, is never an option for me." He smiled. "But it's time for you to go to work. I'll walk you to your car."

Suddenly, Dave's doorbell rang. "I'll be right back." He left his bedroom and headed to the front door. Opening it, he immediately regretted his decision. "Lisa."

"Where have you been all night?" She barged through the front door. "I have been calling you and calling you."

_So, it was you that called me this morning, threatening to kill my daughter and your lover? _"Sorry, I must've slept through it."

"Well, I had an idea you can use for the case. I just remembered that…" Trish walked out of Dave's bedroom, just as Lisa looked over to her. Not removing her gaze from Trish, Lisa spoke to Dave. "Well, I see you're abusing the attorney-client privilege."

Trish glanced between Dave and Lisa. "I'll be waiting for you in your bedroom, David." She then left.

Lisa watched Trish leave. "Thank you for fucking up my case so you can fuck my girlfriend."

"Lisa, don't start." Dave warned.

"She betrayed me, David." Lisa snapped. "She wasn't there when I needed her. But that's alright. Maybe we weren't as close as I thought we were. " She then shook her head as she looked out the window. "_La perra lo tenía viniendo a ella_."

Dave looked at Lisa. "What was that?"

"Nothing." She picked up her Fendi clutch bag. "Nothing at all. I'll see you later." She then left his home.

Dave walked towards his window and stared at Lisa spinning her Mercedes out of the driveway. His bedroom door opened and Trish walked out. "Is she gone?"

"Oh, she's gone, alright." Dave said, knowing the statement had a double meaning.

Trish walked up to Dave and grabbed one of his hands. "I should probably leave now."

"No, I think you need to stay." Dave then got out of his cell phone. "Go back to the bedroom for a minute. I need to make some phone calls."

Trish frowned. She knew something was amiss but she couldn't put her finger on it. "Oh okay."

Dave called Paul. "Hey, we need to scratch plan A. Yeah, totally scratch it. We need to go to Plan B. Shit is getting too out of hand and I'm putting a stop to it." He sighed. "Mary and Trish have been threatened. Yeah. I'll meet you in an hour." He then hung up.

Dave looked at another picture of him, Meredith and Elizabeth. It was minutes after Meredith's birth. The young couple was cooing at their newborn daughter, very proud of their new family. Dave met Elizabeth in Spanish classes back in college. In exchange for free football tickets, she was his personal tutor. The lessons paid off for Dave and Elizabeth marry a few years later. But Dave was also heavily involved with his wife's family affairs, often having to converse with his partners in fluent Spanish.

_La perra lo tenía viniendo a ella_

Elizabeth came from a Colombian drug cartel family and often handled the family's business of drug trafficking. Dave was the clean party, making sure there were no traces back to him and Elizabeth. Elizabeth died in drug pick-up gone horribly wrong, and her inheritance was transferred to Dave and Meredith in the sum of ten million dollars. Dave remained extremely tight with Elizabeth's family, often visiting. Now he needed a favor from them.

He quickly retrieved his cell phone and began dialing. "Hey, it's me. I'm going to need to send Mary and a friend down to you for a while…just until I can get this mess cleaned up here." Dave said over the phone. "I need a favor, but I need it clean. Could you do that for me? Thanks."

Dave hung up the phone and stared out the window. _"They're all out to get me." Trish warned. _

_La perra lo tenía viniendo a ella. _The bitch had everything coming to her.

Dave shook his head and smiled. _You are damn right, Lisa. You and your daddy are going to get every fucking thing coming to you. _


	19. The Guerreros

_Author's Note: Yeah, you thought I forgot about this story, huh? Hell, so did I. _

_------------------------------------------_

Several black SUVs pulled up in front of Dave's home. At least five people exited out of every vehicle. Dressed in attire that was more appropriate for a funeral than a family visit, the persons walked up to Dave's front door and rang the doorbell.

Dave opened the door and greeted his in-laws. He smirked as he shook his head, admiring the Cadillac Escalades parked in front of his mansion. "I told you to keep it quiet, Eddie."

"When the hell have you known me to do anything quiet, holmes?" Eddie Guerrero smiled.

In Colombia, The Guererros were the drug cartel family that rivaled the fictional Sopranos. The patriach of the family was Eduardo "Eddie" Guerrero, Jr. He was a muscular man of average height. He had blonde highlights in his dark hair, a sharp contrast from the mullet he was rocking for years. Rumored had it his wife, Vickie, threatened to break his legs and feed them to the pet alligators if he didn't finally get a hair cut.

Eddie showed up the next day with a brand-new 'do.

He kept the family tradition of running one of the most powerful drug cartel families in South America. For years, the Feds have been trying to pin him down but Eddie ran his operation so smooth, none of the trafficking was traced back to him. He often donated to various charities; even giving money to the local elementary school where his granddaughters attended school.

But it was his sense of humor that was his trademark. Eddie was known to crack jokes when his men were dangling a victim off a bridge.

Vickie Guerrero handled the money aspect of the business. Just as Jesus was able to turn water into wine, Vickie was able to make dirty drug money appear legitimate. She had a business degree in Economics and kept close contacts at the local banks. She was a society wife in all aspect of the term, and often held tea parties at her home. She was buxom woman, whose face appeared to be painted delicately as if it was porcelain. But she was also ruthless. Legend had it when her youngest daughter, Melina, was denied entry into a local pageant, Vickie had pictures posted of the event coordinator's sexual liaisons in every local newspaper.

Melina won every pageant from that moment on.

Standing beside the couple was Elizabeth's siblings, Chavo, Melina, Oscar, and Carlito. Chavo was the smooth ladies' man. Standing at average height, he was the analytical mind of the crime family. He determined when the drug runs were made; who the new business contacts were and most importantly, when he was going to get laid again. Chavo was known to keep a stable of "queens" as he called them, ready and able at his beck and call.

Next was Oscar. He stood about 5"9 and had a face that often had people mistake him for a 12-year-old boy. But Oscar was quick, unloading a clip on his enemies before they had a chance to process what was happening. He often used his boyish looks to manipulate clients into giving him what he wanted. He graduated recently from being a drug runner to a sniper.

Carlito was the wild child, always had a finger on a gun trigger and ready for action. He had a wild mane of curly locks and equally matched attitude. He was the Guererro connection to the streets and kept an ear close to the ground to hear any rumblings of possible activity. But Carlito was also known to be a firestarter, shooting at people who stepped on his new Jordans.

Lastly, Melina was the princess of the bunch. Standing at a buxom 5"5 with brand-new implants purchased by her boyfriend, Johnny Nitro, Melina was the ultimate Mafia princess. She was the youngest of the Guerreros and could not care less about the family business or who died as a result. Her priority concern was whether her new Mercedes was going to get a wax job.

The Guerreros gathered around Dave as they began to dissect their plan. "I'm going to need this clean." Dave stressed. "No blood, no threats, nothing. I can't risk everything now."

"What do you need?" Chavo inquired.

"Mary and Trish are going to be sent to you for a few weeks until this whole thing blows over. I'm going to need some protection around here."

"Oscar..." Eddie called out.

Oscar rolled his eyes. "For the last time, _Papi,_ it's Rey Mysterio."

Dave looked at Eddie, who rolled his eyes. "Oscar…I'm sorry, _Rey _over there has been upgraded to a sniper. But now because he got his new title, he wants to be referred to as Rey Hysteria."

"Mysterio, _Papi_. It's Rey Mysterio." He smiled. "It means King of Mystery."

"I personally think it means dumbass idiot, but what do I know? Since when in the hell do snipers have fuckin' stage names?" Eddie retorted. "Anyhoo, we'll have Oscar, Carlito, and Melina set up shop at the offices. Chavo is going to maintain surveillance on the McMahon guy."

"What about my grandbaby?" Vickie asked. "Where is she?"

"She's out with some friends. Don't worry, she's being watched." Dave assured.

"So you're sure about what you're doing, David?" Vickie asked. "Not that I don't believe you, it's just your story is quite fascinating."

"In other words, Mama is saying she thinks you're full of shit, yo." Carlito added.

Chavo slapped the back of Carlito's head, who quickly pulled out a gun and pointed to his older brother. "Man, I told you about the hair."

"Would you put that shit down? Damn!" Eddie yelled. He shook his head and mumbled. "Each and every fuckin' time I go somewhere, you always gotta shoot someone." He then raised his voice at Carlito. "Next time, leave your damn glock at home!"

Eddie turned his attention back to Dave. "As Vic was trying to say, we know you're a great lawyer, D. But your theory on this McMahon fellow? I don't know, holmes."

"That's why I'm sending Mary and Trish to you guys until I get this settled. If I'm right, it's all good."

"But what if you're wrong?" Melina asked.

"If I'm wrong?" Dave let out a heavy sigh. "Then I'm a dead man."


	20. Truth to be Told

_Author's Note: I just love double updates! Oh and by the way, if you're confused by Randy's murder, this chapter will make you that much more..._

_Still taking guesses on who did it..._

-----------------------------------

"How long am I going to be away?" Trish asked as she packed the last of her belongings.

Dave slightly shrugged, uneasiness making him deafening silent. He wanted to say a few days. He wanted to believe a few weeks. For all he knew, it could be a long while before Trish was safely able to step back into the States. "I'm not sure." He finally admitted.

Trish paused packing her suitcase. She threw the last folded shirt on top of the suitcase and sat next to Dave. "Why are you staying?"

"I have unfinished business here. Paul can't handle it and it's nothing I want to put on anyone else, for that matter. I'll be in Colombia to see you after I'm done."

"But what if you can't?" She asked. Trish didn't want to think of the alternative of Dave's quest for the truth. "What if…what if..."

Dave quickly silenced Trish with a searing kiss. "What if we change the subject now?"

Trish gave an uneasy smile. It was their last night together and Trish wanted to remember it for the good times. "Okay. Um, I bought a new wig!" She got out a blondish-black number and put it on her head. "You like?"

"Trish, you're only going to Colombia for a miniature vacation. You're not in the Witness Protection Program." Dave smiled.

"Hey now! I bought this for us." Trish said as she climbed on Dave's lap. "I bought for the next time we could be alone together."

Dave fell backwards on the bed and rolled on top of Trish. "Maybe you should keep that on right now."

-------------------------------------------------

Over the next few hours, Dave and Trish made passionate love. While their sessions were always intense and hot, it was this moment that made them realize how desperate they needed each other. Every thrust, moan, pull, and caress was met with equal desire. They both wanted to believe it wouldn't be the last time but neither one was sure. After an explosion climax, they collapsed together on the bed in a sweaty heap. Taking a few moments to collect themselves, Dave pressed Trish for more answers. "Why do you think they're out to get you?" Dave asked as he caressed her shoulders.

Trish laid on Dave's chest and stared at the flickering candlelight. "Because of what I saw."

"What did you see?" Dave asked.

"One day, I decided to pop in and see Rose, kind of a surprise visit. When I arrived at her home, I saw a gray Mercedes parked in the driveway." Trish started. "I thought it was a little weird since no one drove a Mercedes in that neighborhood and Rose wasn't known to have a lot of money. But just as I was walking up to the front door, it suddenly opened and I saw Vince leaving. It looked like he was still getting dressed."

"_Rose still cleans my home and I pay her very well."_ "You caught them in the act." Dave continued.

"Neither Rose or Vince could say anything. They were both stunned and Rose had this look on her face like she just saw a ghost. I got back into my car and took off."

"Did you know the connection between Rose and Vince?"

"At the time, no. I mean the maid is fucking her boss, what's the big deal about that?" Trish shrugged. "But then everything started to make sense. Rose always had money. She was able to afford to put Lisa into these etiquette classes and do all these nice things for her. Rose bought Lisa a used car, purchased a new sedan for herself in the same year, but her only job is cleaning one guy's house once a week? I mean, why wouldn't there be a possibility that Vince was Lisa's dad?"

"Why didn't you tell Lisa?"

"I tried. She was so hard to get a hold of and she never returned my calls." Trish shrugged. "But not so coincidentally, she met Randy a few days later."

"_Who do you think recommended the strip bar to Mr. Orton in the first place?"_

"What about Vince?"

"He offered me money to keep my mouth shut."

"How much?"

"Fifty grand."

"You took the money?"

Trish looked up at him. "David, I'm a struggling comedian. What do you think?"

"So why would they threaten you? It seemed that Vince liked you."

"Vince liked me because I was a good secret he could keep. He told me that he didn't want Lisa and I to be seen together in public anymore. He was trying to raise her status to be a society wife. I told him there was nothing he could do to keep her away from me. He was like, 'Wanna bet?'" Trish shook her head. "I should've never opened my mouth."

"What did you say?"

"I told him if he tried to keep me away from Lisa, I'll go public with his affair with Rose."

_Bingo. _Everything became clearer to Dave. "That's when he gave you the hush money?"

"Yeah." Trish frowned. "Are you in trouble?"

_You betcha. _"I'll be fine, Trisha."

"That's not what I asked, David." Trish worried. "They're going to kill you. You don't know what they're capable of."

"I know what they're capable of, Trish." Dave smiled. "They don't know what I'm capable of."

--------------------------------------------

Safely sending Meredith and Trish to Colombia, Dave set his sights on the next task at hand: proving his case was a joke. With the backing from Paul and other members of the Guerrero family, Dave quickly got started on dissecting the case little by little. Every piece of evidence was going to be re-examined. Every bit of testimony was going to be re-read. It was a job Dave was dreading. But if he wanted to sleep better at night—both mentally and physically—he had to get the job done.

After going over the testimony and evidence for what seemed like the umpteenth time, Paul tossed the court documents on the floor. "Dave, there's nothing here, man."

Dave rubbed his forehead and did not bother to look up at his best friend. "Keep reading, it's in there."

"Man, it's not in there." Paul said. "Dave, we have nothing. There's nothing that suggests someone other than Lisa killed him."

Dave knew any conversations he had with Vince were hearsay and more likely would be thrown out of court. But he couldn't get over his hunch there was more to the story than what was being told. _And why Lisa would risk everything to protect someone? _

It was more than just Dave's reputation on the line. It was Dave's livelihood. He would be probably be disbarred. He would probably have to move out of the country.

He would most likely be killed.

"I say we need a break." Paul took out his cell phone and began dialing. "Thai sound good, man?"

"Yeah, that'll work." Dave replied. He dropped several documents on the table and stepped away from the desk. If there was ever such a thing as a miracle, Dave could use one of those at the moment. Just when Dave was getting ready to give up on his theory and abandon it completely, his silver lining came in a phone call. "Dave Batista." He answered.

"Having fun dissecting your case, Lawyer?" The voice spoke.

Dave immediately put his phone on speaker and motioned for Paul to come closer. "Who's this?"

"Don't worry about who this is. I have some information that could help you."

"I don't need any help." Dave replied.

"I think you do. We all know the blonde didn't do it nor did her little lesbian girlfriend."

If a dark man could look pale, it was exactly how Dave was looking. His face turned twenty shades of white. His working theory wasn't a needle in the haystack; someone else knew too much information as well. "What's your price?"

"You want help? I suggest you meet me on Santa Monica pier at midnight." The line went dead.

"So we're making our order to go, right?" Paul asked.

Dave put the phone down and stared at the ceiling. _Why can't I wake up from this nightmare already? _"I don't think I'm hungry anymore."

--------------------------------------------------------

Dave and Paul walked carefully along the long pier. Knowing that police and Mafia presence would scare off the other party, Dave asked Chavo to keep watch but to stay back. As the sleepy haze hovered over pier, Paul and Dave waited impatiently for the other party to arrive. When they saw who it was, both men were ready to fight the smaller individual.

"Hey fellas." Michael Cole smiled. "Beautiful night, isn't it?"

Michael Cole was the medical examiner for the local crime scene investigation unit. He spent his days examining deaths and his nights playing Dungeons and Dragons. He was a small but muscular-built man with a goatee and spiked black hair. If there were a definition of geek in the dictionary, Michael Cole's picture would be under it. "Don't tell me you were the asshole on the other end of the phone?" Dave asked.

Michael pulled out the voice decoder and showed it to Paul and Dave. "I love these little things. They're so much fun."

"Michael, you have about five minutes before I kill your ass." Dave warned.

Michael pulled out a large manila envelope. "Follow me, gentlemen. I have a story to tell and something to share."

----------------------------------------

"So what's the deal, Michael?" Dave asked.

Michael was too busy stuffing his face with a cheeseburger and French fries combo. He quickly washed the combination down with a large Coke. "I haven't eaten since breakfast."

"We can tell." Dave and Paul said together.

Michael quickly wiped his mouth. "Okay, you're wondering why I brought you here."

"Man, just get to the point." Paul shook his head.

Michael looked around him a few times, even going so far to look under the table. "I have to be careful. I'm being watched."

_Trish hesitated. "All of them. They're all out to get me."_ Dave heard this story before. "Go on, man." 

"You both seen the pictures, right? Gruesome." Michael said. "Well, when the body first arrived, I did the necessary procedures. I did the autopsy and toxicology tests as standard. Yeah, he was obviously stabbed pretty badly but there could've been other stuff in his system. So after I get the reports back, I get a phone call.

"I was told to destroy the evidence and if I did, I was going to be "rewarded greatly"." Michael said. "I was like, 'Who is this? A crank caller?' And I hung up the phone." He sipped his Coke again. "Wrong choice, man."

"What happened?" Paul asked.

"I'm at the lab doing another autopsy when I get a surprise visit by these masked thugs. They held a gun to my head and asked me where the Orton case files were. They watched me destroy the evidence and left me alone. I haven't heard anything from them since."

Dave stared blankly at Michael. He didn't doubt the masked thugs in question were members of Vince's influence. Still, Michael's experience was not going to help Dave right now. "So is that what you wanted to tell me?"

Michael pulled out the manila folder again. "Luckily for me and for you, I always make several copies." He then slid the folder over to Paul and Dave. "Take a look."

Dave opened the folder and looked at the crime scene and autopsy photos. The crime scene was particularly horrendous with blood everywhere, even on the walls. Randy had his hands tied to the bed posts with a rope and he was stabbed all over his upper torso. Dave also noticed there weren't any defensive stab wounds, meaning Randy was stabbed after he was tied up. "I've seen these before, Michael. They're nothing new."

"Au contraire." Michael pulled out the toxicology report and gave it to Paul. "Read that."

Paul read over the documents and re-read them a second time to make sure he knew what he was reading. He then handed them over to Dave, who was equally shocked. He looked up at Michael. "You're kidding me, right?"

"I wish I was, man." Michael shrugged. "But the evidence doesn't lie."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute…" Paul shook his head and waved a hand. "Are you telling me what I think you're telling me?"

"Gentlemen, Randy Orton didn't die from his stab wounds." Michael said. "He was already dead when he was stabbed."


	21. All We Need is Old Lace

_Author's Note: I'm on a roll with this story. Well, I've spent a good portion of last night and today writing so this story will be done within the near future. And yes, I really mean it this time._

_A few of you are still confused but I dropped a HUGE clue in this chapter. The killer will be revealed next chapter. A few more twists and turns are in store but I think everyone will like the end results. Thank you for your continued love and support!_

_This chapter contains mature subject matter._

_V._

-----------------------------------------

_As stated, Randall Orton had significant levels of arsenic in his bloodstream. In my conclusion of the evidence, he died of acute arsenic poisoning. It is also in my belief that Randy was stabbed to cover up the poisoning._

_Michael Cole_

_Forensic Examiner_

Dave and Paul examined the toxicology report. There were no other drugs in Randy's bloodstream and no evidence of alcohol poisoning. "He had three grams of arsenic in his body? How much is that? Enough to kill a horse?" Dave asked.

"Um, try six horses." Michael replied. "He was dead within a few hours of being poisoned. But wait, there's more. Take a look at this." He pulled out several more photographs and pointed to them. One picture was of Randy's backside. Dried fecal matter was smeared across his buttocks. Another picture had evidence of vomit across his lips. "He was exhibiting the symptoms of arsenic poisoning. One of the first symptoms is vomiting and loose stools. His body was trying to get rid of the poison."

"So it's possible he knew he was poisoned?" Paul questioned.

"I say it was fifty-fifty. When someone gets poisoned, they either think they've come down with the flu because the symptoms are similar. His throat becomes hoarse and there's difficulty swallowing. The main difference is that there's a metallic aftertaste."

"So he would've had to ingest the poison?" Dave replied. "Was there any other way?"

"He could've inhaled it but it wouldn't have done as much damage as him ingesting it. Arsenic is odorless and flavorless so someone could've put it in his drink or food and Randy would've had no idea." Michael added.

"So it is possible that he knew who killed him?" Paul asked.

"Very possible. Dare I say, I'm almost positive he knew who killed him. Now, he obviously had a lot of stab wounds but check this out." Michael pointed to another picture. "Randy was stabbed only in his waist above."

"Well, I figured that part out." Dave commented. "That's where all of his major organs are."

"No, Dave, you need to look at it more closely." Michael pointed to Randy's abdomen. "Whoever killed him purposely stabbed his stomach and intestines."

Paul leaned in closer to study the photos. "So whoever killed him was trying to get rid of any traces of the arsenic?"

"Or they really hated his ass." Michael quipped. "What I'm wondering is why would someone go to such lengths to stab him after he's been poisoned?" Michael shook his head. "It makes no sense to me."

Paul and Dave smiled at each other. "Oh, it makes sense to us." Paul smiled.

Dave looked at the pictures again. "How would someone get a hold of arsenic? I thought it was banned."

"Despite it's obvious harmful side effects, it's also really good for planting." Michael said. "It's also available in hospitals and some laboratories. It's a narcotic."

"Wait a minute?" Dave had an epiphany. "It's available in hospitals?"

-----------------------------------------------------------

Outside the restaurant, Jonathan Coachman was watching the meeting between the three men. _Sad little men, he smirked. Well, he's been warned. _Jonathan turned to his partners. "Alright. They're in there. Once they leave, get them and kill them. Do it fast. Do it good."

As the henchmen were walking towards the parking lot, a stumbling drunk crossed their paths. "Heyy man…can you spare some change?" He slurred.

"Get out of here, you bum!" Jonathan sneered.

"Heyy man…" The man approached Jonathan and his crew closer. "I just need a dollar for a burger."

Jonathan shoved the man to the ground. "I said get out of here, you dirty asshole! Get a fuckin' job!"

"Heyy man…" The man stood up and brushed off his clothing. "That was not cool!"

"Yeah, well, you're a loser. Get lost!" Jonathan yelled.

"Nah, man…" The man pulled off his hoodie. It was Carlito in disguise. He was holding a 9 mm directly towards Jonathan. Other members of the Guerrero family surrounded Jonathan and his henchmen, all holding guns. "I said that was not cool."


	22. What the Hell Just Happened?

"Knock, knock." Eddie began. When he didn't get a response, he started the joke again. "Knock, knock." Again, it was silent. "Man, I'm telling you a joke here!"

Several members of the Guerrero entourage were holding Jonathan and his men over a bridge. Between the bridge and the water were several thousand feet. The men struggled in vain and pleaded with Eddie, who was only interested in telling jokes. "Knock, knock!" He smiled down at Jonathan.

"Who's there?" Jonathan whimpered.

"Betcha."

"Betcha who?"

"Betcha gonna die tonight!" Eddie laughed. "Holmes, that was funny! Wasn't that funny?" He asked his men, who all chuckled. "I should be on that show. What's that show called?"

"Last Comic Standing?" Chavo answered.

"Yeah, that one!" Eddie smiled. "I would be killing the competition!" He busted into more laughter. "Get it? Oh, this shit is funny. I'm dying over here! Get it? I'm dying!"

"You'll never get away with this!" Jonathan warned. "Mr. McMahon will have your ass!"

"Ooh, I don't know about that, holmes." Eddie shook his head. "I don't swing that way."

Just then, Jonathan and his men began screaming for help. That action made Eddie laugh harder. "Hey! That's a good idea! Why don't we all scream? I'll start…ahhhhhhhhhhhh!" He chuckled more. "Shit, this is funny holmes!"

"Tell Batista he's a dead man!" Jonathan yelled. "He'll never get away with this!"

Eddie stopped laughing and frowned. "Now you just ruined my fun." He then nodded to his entourage. "Alright, drop 'em."

The handlers dropped the men to their deaths. Satisfied with a job well done, Eddie and his entourage headed back to their vehicles. Once inside the SUV, Chavo began to rummage through the men's belongings. Inside of Jonathan's jacket was a voice decoder. "What's that?" Eddie asked.

"A voice decoder, Papi." Chavo showed him. "You put it against your mouth and hold the button. Your voice changes."

Eddie tried the voice decoder. "Hey ese!" He laughed at the significant change of his voice. "I like this, holmes! Hey, we should get some of these."

------------------------------------------

"So what brings you in here, Batista?" John Layfield asked. "Giving up your case so I can hand you your first defeat?"

Dave gave a sneaky grin—the type that always suggested he knew more than he was willing to admit. "Hardly. But I do have some information you could use." He let himself inside John's office.

"Is this all on the record?"

"If you want." Dave smiled. "I have nothing to lose at this point."

"Well, lay it one me, partner!" He smiled. "I got all day!"

Over the next hour, Dave explained his working theory on Randy's death. From the horrific autopsy photos to the toxicology reports, Dave laid out all the available evidence to John. John, however, was not impressed. "Can I ask you a question without you being offended?"

"No, but I know you're going to ask anyways."

Whenever John Layfield was upset, his mouth spurted profanity-laced sentences at a mile a minute. "Why did you just waste my time with that bullshit? Are you fucking kidding me, Batista?"

"I laid out the evidence for you. What else do you need?"

Apparently, Dave made John really upset. "No jury in the fucking continental US is going to buy that bullshit story! Give me a fuckin' break!"

"Listen, I stand behind this one hundred percent. You can either take it or you can suffer a defeat of your own. All I have to do is create reasonable doubt." He smiled again. "And by the look on your face, I just created it."

John glared at the man across from him. Despite his own personal feelings, Dave did mention a very strong point. "Is that it?" He asked.

"Yeah, that's it." Dave said.

John still was not convinced about Dave and his theory. It sounded good on paper but John knew just as much as Dave did, it would not make any sense in front of a jury. It wasn't just Dave's reputation and career on the line; John was also at risk for being disbarred. "You know what's at risk, right? If you're slightly wrong about any of this, it's over for you."

"I know. John, this isn't something I'm taking lightly." Dave lost many nights sleep wondering if him pursuing the theory was worth it. But he couldn't live with himself if he knowingly let justice escape from his grasp. "I know what's at stake."

"Are you sure? If I withdraw my case based on your so-called theory and it's full of shit, you're in a world of hurt, Batista."

"I realize that, John. But I'm sticking to my beliefs. If I'm wrong, I'm dead."

"And if you're right?"

"If I'm right?" Dave repeated. "I'm going on vacation." Then his cell phone rang. He noticed the caller was Lisa. Slightly hesitant to pick up the phone, Dave answered it regardless. "Yes?"

"Where are you?" She asked frantically. "I need to talk to you!"

"I'm meeting with the DA. What's wrong?"

"I need to meet with you now!" Lisa felt her world was slowly collapsing. "This is important!"

"What happened, Lisa?" Dave asked. "What's going on?"

"I have a confession to make." Lisa hesitated. "I didn't kill my husband."

Dave stood in John's office and could not believe what he was hearing. His client was confessing to a crime she kept saying she committed from day one. While Dave knew Lisa didn't kill Randy, he never thought she would confess to it. "What?"

"My mother did." Lisa sighed heavily and fought the tears rolling down her cheeks. For the past year, she unconvincingly went along with her mother's plan. But what Lisa saw earlier that morning convinced her Rose could not care less what happened to her very own daughter. She paused again, deciding if she really wanted to go through the decision. "I want to testify against her."


	23. The End is Near

"_Now, Lisa remember. The salad fork is the small one. The dinner fork is the big one." Rose instructed. _

"_But why can't I just use both forks?" Lisa whined. _

"_Because I'm teaching you how to be a lady." _

"_But I don't want to be a lady, I want to be Lisa." _

_Rose kissed her daughter's forehead and held her tight. "That, you'll always be."_

Lisa calmly walked into Dave's office. A small smile was on her face when she remembered her childhood. Her mother spent many hours and money on etiquette classes, yet Lisa was confused on which fork was which. _And just to think, I'm still not entirely sure. _

Lisa wished deciding what fork to use was her only concern now. She was facing a lot of jail time and her guilty conscience was getting the best of her. Although she didn't kill the father of her children, she might as well have done it herself by protecting her mother. And if it wasn't for the conversation she overheard that morning, she would still be protecting her.

"_Well, if I asked to get an abortion, she wouldn't be in this mess." Lisa overheard Rose speaking in Spanish on the phone. "But now I'm going to have to take care of the kids myself. I don't know what I'm going to do with those hellraisers. I'm telling you I don't see why she couldn't just get an abortion. I did when I was her age and I don't regret it one bit." _

Lisa felt her heart jump out of her chest upon hearing the conversation. If her mother didn't care about her own grandchildren, she sure did not care about Lisa serving jail time. _If I'm going down, that bitch is coming with me. _She walked into Dave's office where she noticed John Bradshaw was. "Why is he here?"

"I'm here for the same reason you're here, sweetheart." John smiled as he took off his cowboy hat. "Now, sing like the canary you are."

Lisa turned towards Dave, who offered her a seat. "Lisa."

Lisa sat down and Dave handed her a cup of water. For someone who was dubbed the "Lady Killer" for her strong fashion sense and impeccable makeup throughout the trial, Lisa aged ten years in fifteen minutes. Her face was bare and her eyes were tired. Her being looked gaunt and sleep was only just a suggestion. "First off, I want immunity."

"Not happening." John cut her off. "Not here, not now, not anytime. You knew about the murder and you're just now coming clean about it? You're going to do more than just serve some jail time, sweetheart."

Lisa slumped back in her chair. "How much time are we talking?"

"Depends on what you have to say and your involvement." John replied. "But you're looking at least 20 years just for being an accessory and obstruction to justice."

Lisa closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh. She was hoping her confession would play out like the movies. She'll confess to what she knows and the worse that would happen to her was being in the witness protection program. But reality hit her hard. She wasn't going to get off so easily. She was facing major punishment for something she knew about and hid. Her children were only four and she couldn't bare only seeing them during visitation days. "What about my babies?"

"They'll be taken care of. We'll make arrangements with the Ortons to grant them temporary custody." John added.

Lisa looked down at her manicured hands. Just last year she was complaining about how hard it was to find a good manicurist. Now she was going to a place where a manicure would be an afterthought. "Alright, I'll talk. But I'm getting no more than 10 years, got that?"

"Sweetheart, I will convict you right now and it will be a damn guarantee you're getting 20 just by you being here!" John bristled.

"John, could you excuse me and my client for a minute." Dave stepped in. "We need to chit-chat."

John hastily left the office to give Dave and Lisa some privacy. Dave walked over to a nearby window and admired the high-rises. Looking at the window-washers across the street was his only distraction. In all of his years of practice, he thought he had seen it all. Singers accused of child molestation. Rappers sexually assaulting strippers. A-list actors stalking other A-listers.

But that was nothing compared to the private parties he attended. Celebrities that prided on their clean-cut image were full-blown freaks behind closed doors. Sex-induced orgies were the norm. It wasn't called Hollyweird for nothing.

However, never in Dave Batista's practicing years has he had been so bamboozled by one person, or worse yet, a group of people. Vince McMahon was running a game on Dave and was laughing the entire time. _The little chase he's been giving me probably made his dick hard. _

"What's going to happen to me?" Lisa quietly spoke. "I want to know what's going to happen to my children."

Dave held up a hand to silence her. Right now, he didn't need Lisa's concern to distract him from his next plan of action. Dave decided at that moment, he didn't give a damn what happened to Lisa or her children. He needed to clear his name and save his reputation.

He walked over to Lisa and stood in front of her. Lisa leaned back in her chair as Dave stared down at her. "Okay, I'm going to say this once and once only. We're going to the police station where you're going to give your confession and a statement. I strongly suggest whatever you know, say it. I don't give a damn if it's something so insignificant as what was playing on TV that night or how straight your hair was.

"You're going to talk and tell every damn thing you know. If you decide to back out at any time, I will make damn sure John will prosecute you to the fullest extent of the law and you will never see your children ever again, got that?" Dave sternly warned.

Lisa felt her lips slightly tremble. "Okay, but…"

"No, there's not but to it." Dave stood back and motioned for Lisa to get up. He gathered her belongings and ushered her outside to meet with John. "And from this moment on, when I say jump, you better fucking do it."

-------------------------------------------------

After Lisa confessed to what she knew, Dave made a bee-line to McMahon & Associates offices. Upon walking inside the building, Dave was immediately frisked. It was a standard procedure for anyone that walked into the building since Vince was known to defend many high-profile celebrities.

Inside his corner office on the top floor, Vince was staring at a poster of the Thrilla in Manila, the famed bout between Muhammad Ali and Sonny Liston. "I remember being a little kid and watching this match on TV." Vince said. "I think I was the only one in my neighborhood who didn't want Ali to win."

Dave smiled as he admired the poster. "Really? I had my money on Ali the entire time."

Vince turned around and motioned for Dave to sit. He then sat across from him. "What brings this visit, David?"

"I'm resigning as Lisa's lawyer." Dave stated. "I already sent out a notice to Rose and Lisa was already informed. This case has been more than I've bargained for."

"You're resigning? You're resigning, huh?" Vince chuckled. When Vince was upset, he often smiled and laughed. He believed to never show all of the cards, even if one was playing with a short deck. "You have some fuckin' balls, Batista. You're coming in here talking about what you want and what you don't want. As far as I was concerned, I am paying you a lot of money to keep your mouth shut and get my daughter off the hook but apparently that isn't good enough for you." Vince pulled out a 9mm and admired the shiny glare off the gun.

He uncocked the gun, removing the clip to show Dave that it was fully loaded. He then loaded the clip back into the gun. "See, David, people can't be trusted. A person can be very fickle but machines?" He then cocked the gun and pointed it at Dave. "Machines can always be trusted."

Dave did not flinch at Vince's machismo. He didn't think he was stupid enough to actually threaten him but as always, Vince proved him wrong. "Is that right? Well, now you're being unreasonable." He sat back into his seat. "Vince, if you want to start this, I'm game. But first, you should take a look out your office window."

Vince looked past Dave's left shoulder, still pointing the gun to Dave's body. Dave calmly began talking to Vince. "See the girl by the water fountain?" Dave instructed as Melina looked up. "See the office runner dropping off the interoffice mail?" Oscar looked up. "And finally? See the FedEx guy picking up a delivery?" Carlito motioned towards Dave and pulled up his shirt to reveal a hidden gun tucked in his waistband.

Vince looked at Dave, who smiled. Vince puckered his lips and uncocked his gun. He then set it down. Dave got up and adjusted his tie. "I'm removing myself from this case. You leave me alone, I'll leave you alone. You threaten me again and I'll take out your whole fuckin' family."


	24. Finale

_Author's Note: Yes! This story is done! It's taken me forever and a day but I finally completed it. Thank you to everyone who's read and/or reviewed. _

_This chapter contains mature adult themes and graphic violence. _

_---------------------------------------------------------------_

"_What brings this visit, Rose?" Randy asked. _

"_I wanted to have a friendly dinner with my son-in-law." She said as she stirred a pot of refried beans. "I also wanted us to have a new beginning." _

_Randy smiled. He had been trying in vain to smooth things over with his mother-in-law. Now she was extended the olive branch to him. "Thank you, Rose." _

"_Thank you, Randy." She smiled. "Why don't you change and come back down for dinner?"_

"_Sounds good." Randy quickly went upstairs. While he was gone, Rose poured arsenic in his wine glass. She swirled the mixture and set it down on the table. She finished preparing dinner and set out the plates. _

_Randy walked downstairs and joined Rose for dinner. He took a sip of the wine and swirled it in his mouth. "Delicious, Rose." _

_That's it, keep drinking it. "Thank you, Randal."_

"_Dinner smells wonderful." Randy unfolded his napkin and set it on his lap. "You know, Rose, I have to say I'm really lucky to have such a wonderful mother-in-law like you. The fact you put up with my bullshit over the last few years is nothing short of incredible." He held up his wine glass. "To you, Rose." _

_Rose clinked her glass with Randy's. "To you, Randal." She then watched him drink his wine. It is all you, Randal._

_After dinner, Randy began not to feel well. He was having difficulty swallowing and there was a slight metallic taste in his mouth. "I think I'm coming down with something." He said as he grabbed his throat. "I'm going to turn in for the night."_

_Rose wanted to smile but it would've given away her plan. "I'll stay down here and clean up while you go rest."_

_Randy nodded and headed upstairs. As Rose cleaned, she began to hear Randy purging in the bathroom. My job here is done. She quietly left the condo. _

_Over the next several hours, Randy underwent the most horrific experience of his life. His throat closed up, making it almost impossible to swallow. Then his body began to reject the dinner. If he wasn't purging, he was having loose bowels. His stomach was tied up in knots and began to feel dizzy. _

_That was when Randy knew what was happening to him. She's killing me. _

_Randy mustered enough strength to get a pen and piece of paper. He scribbled on it just enough to make his point across. "She killed me." He died shortly afterwards. _

_When Rose came back to the condo later, she found Randy dead. He was lying in a fetal position on his bed with vomit, blood, and fecal matter trailing his body from the bathroom. Putting on gloves, Rose cleaned up the vomit and feces. She then tied Randy to the bedposts. Satisfied, Rose took one of Trish's kitchen knives and began to cut Randy. She pierced his heart first, making her way down to his kidneys and abdomen. _

_When Lisa came home, she found her mother upstairs in the master bedroom, sitting in a corner. On the bed was her dead husband. Lisa naturally reacted by running towards Randy and holding him close to her body. "What did you do, Mama?" She cried as she held Randy to her body. His blood was getting on her but Lisa didn't care. Her mother murdered her husband. "What did you do?" She begged. _

_"Oh dry it up!" Rose demanded. "He was going to harm you and my grandbabies, Lisa." Rose said defiantly. "I wasn't going to let that happen."_

"_He was trying to get better, Mama!" Lisa screamed as she held Randy's head to her chest. "He was trying to get better!" _

"_For who?" Rose snapped. "For you and the children? No, for himself. He was going to leave you for someone smaller, someone blonder, and someone smarter." _

"_You're lying!" Lisa screamed. "You're lying!" _

"_Lisa, get over yourself! He was a no-good bandero who was not going to help you." Rose put out her cigarette. "Now, I know a friend who can help us. All you need to do is admit you killed Randy and…"_

"_What? What?" Lisa asked. "Are you insane?"_

"_You can say he was physically abusive and you'll get off. Lisa, baby, we can go back to Mexico and raise the babies." Rose smiled. "It'll work." _

_Lisa stared at her mother as she clasped Randy's head to her body. "You'll never get away with this!" _

_Rose wickedly smiled at her daughter. "Wanna bet?"_

_----------------------------------------_

Detectives Chris Benoit and Montel Vontavious Porter stared at Rose Hernandez as she gave her confession. When news broke of a new suspect in Randy Orton's murder, the detectives made a beeline to Rose's home, where they were greeted by hordes of news reporters. They arrested her without incident and brought her to the police station where she calmly gave her confession. The detectives didn't know if they were most disturbed by Rose's calm demeanor or how wickedly evil she was.

Detective Benoit sat down in front of Rose and grasped his hands together. Two years ago, the same woman begged and pleaded with him to go easy on her daughter when she knew Lisa could not have committed the murder. Now she was staring at him with no heart in her soul. "But that's not the end of the story, is it?" He asked.

Rose smiled. "Did you want me to go into intricate detail about how I cut poor Randal into bits and pieces, Detective? Or should I tell you how my daughter begged and pleaded for me to turn myself in when she found her husband cut up?"

Meanwhile, Dave and Paul were watching the action unfold with John Layfield behind the two-way mirror. "That bitch is absolutely sick!" John said disgustedly. "Does she get off on that shit?"

"Apparently." Dave answered. "She knew what she was doing." He looked over to his client, Lisa, who was shaking her head. "How are you holding up?"

Lisa shook her head as tears streamed down her cheeks. The night she found Randy was forever in her mind. "I don't know her."

Suddenly, Vince burst through the interrogation room with another attorney in tow. "This confession is illegal and I demand you stop or you'll face a lawsuit so fast, it'll shut down this station!"

"Save it, Vince." Rose said as she blew a plume of smoke in the air. "I told them everything."

"Rose, don't say another word!" Vince walked over towards her. "I'll settle this as soon as I—"

"No, you shut up!" Rose yelled. The passion in her voice put a fear in Vince's eyes that no one had seen before. "You can't control me anymore. I'm not the secret you can keep anymore, Vince. I'm not the 'hot tamale' you can call on when your other whores weren't available." She then winked at him. "I'm going down and I'm taking you with me."

"Gentlemen, I ask you release this woman immediately. She is obviously not well!" Vince screamed.

"The only person who's crazy in here is you, Vince." Rose said calmly as she pulled out a chair. "I suggest you get comfortable right now. Everyone knows the story. Everyone knows we were lovers."

Vince dejectedly sat down beside his former lover. "Are you insane?"

"I'm perfectly fine." Rose lit up another cigarette. "You look like you could use a drink, though."

"After everything I have done for you, you have the audacity to turn on me like this! You were my confidant, my saving grace and you do this to me! " Vince yelled at her. "I knew I should've kept your ass in Mexico!"

Rose wasn't daunted by Vince's slander. "Oh please, you were something to do." She retorted. "I was confidant? I was your saving grace? But when you went out to those galas and those other fancy dinners, who was your date? Your standard bimbo.

"I was the secret you wanted to keep. As long as I spread my legs and you gave me money, everything was fine in your world, Vince. I was your glorified whore. You were so ashamed of our relationship, you didn't even want our own daughter to know about us. Our own daughter, Vince!"

"Daughter?" Lisa gasped. "He's my dad?" She whispered as she watched the events unfold.

Meanwhile, back in the interrogation room, Vince was stunned. "Rose, why…why didn't you tell me?"

"Would you have cared? Would've it made a difference? You were too busy screwing every other whore in town to even notice I became pregnant again." Vince looked up at Rose, who didn't buy his sympathy. "Don't you worry about the baby—it was taken care of.

"I wasn't going to let my baby girl to be humiliated by her husband in the same manner you treated me. Yeah, he went to counseling and he claimed to be a better father and husband. But you know what, Vince? You promised me marriage and you didn't.

"I killed Randy because he deserved it." Rose then leaned over and glared at her former lover. "Randy was just practice for what you were going to get."

"Alright, we heard enough." Montel nodded to the surrounding officers. "Take them away."

Just as Rose got up, she walked over to the two-way mirror and began speaking to it. "I should've known your whore ass would squeal." Rose stared at the glass, directly talking to her daughter. "I should've killed you as well." She was then led away by officers.

Dave shook his head as Lisa was also led away to her cell. Chris and Montel joined Dave as he stared into the empty room. "Doing alright, man?" Chris asked.

Dave let out a deep sigh. "This has to be the first case were everyone was a victim."

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After the sensation trials of the century, Rose Hernandez and Vince McMahon were convicted of first-degree murder and conspiracy to murder. Lisa testified against her parents. She received a sentence of 20 years with the possibility of parole. Her children, Jennifer and Robert, were given over to Randy's parents for sole custody. Lisa has yet to see her children.

Meanwhile, Dave was on the cover of every major magazine and news program. He penned a best-selling book regarding the case and gave intricate details regarding how he knew something was amiss. Between promoting his newfound celebrity status, he also made frequent trips to Colombia to visit Trish and Meredith.

On his last trip, Dave and Trish enjoyed watching the Guerrero children play on the sand as Meredith played with her cousins. Eddie and Vicki were working on their tans while Melina, Chavo and Oscar were negotiating more deals between them.

"How are you feeling, baby?" Trish asked as she leaned against Dave.

Dave smiled as he adjusted his sunglasses. The last three years of his life were chaotic and things would never be the same. He would complain but there was something inside him that liked the twisted fame success brought him. "I'm just going to stay out here and relax." He replied.

"Are you going to practice again?" She asked.

"I'm not sure," he replied. Dave has been fielding offers for his own talk show on CourtTV among speaking engagements. He always loved being a lawyer but after the Randy Orton case, he found a new passion of exposing the justice system for fraud. "We'll see."

Trish settled more into Dave's body. There was something she needed to tell him but she wasn't sure how he would react. _Better now than never. _"How long do you plan to stay here?" Trish asked.

"I don't know," he responded, "I guess a few months."

Trish squeezed Dave's hands and held them. "A few months like seven more?" She asked.

"Possibly," he replied, looking down at her. "Why? What's going on?"

The Guerreros knew and Meredith was surprisingly ecstatic about the news. Trish moved Dave's hands to her stomach. "A new defense attorney in the making." She said quietly.

Dave smiled big and let out a hearty laugh. "Nah, it's a prosecutor."

The End.


End file.
